


Baby's First Revenge

by Screaming_at_an_Empty_Room



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action, Family, Fantasy, Rebirth, Reincarnation, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 09:11:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18688477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Screaming_at_an_Empty_Room/pseuds/Screaming_at_an_Empty_Room
Summary: When Charlotte is betrayed and killed by the friend she sacrificed everything for, she thought it was the end. Instead, she found herself reborn as a baby, with her killer still enjoying the fame of stealing her work. Now, she's coming after him, and plans to make him pay...But first, nap time.





	1. Chapter 1

“It wasn’t my fault!”

Peter’s voice was filled with self-righteous indignation. He clutched the letter of acceptance so tightly that the paper crumpled, tearing at the edges. The other hand set down his cup of coffee untouched, contrasting strangely with Charlotte’s half empty cup. He smiled at her as he spoke, the arrogance of the expression pushing her over the edge.

A bitter laugh bubbled out of Charlotte, carrying on too long. It filled the air between them, souring the atmosphere. Peter shuddered, the sound felt like a cheese grater on his skin.

“It never is.” She smiled, but the smile wasn’t happy or kind. Her gaze remained cold. “It wasn’t your fault when you stole from Leonard’s men, and told them it was me. It wasn’t your fault that I had to fight to protect myself and went to juvie for two years. It wasn’t your fault that every project you and I have worked on has somehow come out with only your name on it.” She eyed the paper in his hand, shaking her head slowly. “And now it’s not your fault that “Searching in Silence”… the book  _I_ wrote has been accepted to be published… with you as the author.”

Peter stepped back, frowning. “I saw a chance and I went for it. With your record, no one will ever agree to publish you. I’ll pay you some of the royalties.” He gave her an easy grin, the slightly lopsided, confident expression usually enough to sway her good opinion. “Really, I’m doing YOU a favor!” 

Charlotte couldn’t help it, she laughed again. “Yes, let me get down on my knees and thank you for stealing my work. Your selflessness is astounding.” 

His eyes narrowed. “What do you want?”

“The truth to be known, my name on my own book.”

“It’s too late, I’ve already signed the contract.”

“It’s not too late.” Charlotte frowned. “Tell them the truth.”

“This is the truth now.” He pointed to himself. “I am the author. A bright upstanding new writer whose future potential is limitless. You?” Peter sighed dramatically. “You are street trash, with a criminal record. No talent, no skills other than fighting… you’ll amount to nothing.”

“TRAITOR!” She hissed. “I fought to protect us both. If I hadn’t you wouldn’t be alive to steal my work.”

He shrugged. “Your mistake.”

“I’ll tell everyone the truth.”

“Go ahead, no one will believe you.”

Charlotte frowned, not wanting to admit he was right. “Well if I can’t convince them, I’ll convince you.”

“You’ll never…”

“Really?” She chuckled, cracking her knuckles. “You got one thing right, I do have a talent… for fighting.”

She stood up, taking a step closer to him to prepare to attack… and fell to the ground with a thud. 

Peter threw back his head, laughing uncontrollably. “I can’t believe you fell for that!” Standing up, he turned her over onto her back with a ginger push of his foot. “A little poison in your coffee was really all it took?”

Charlotte glanced over at her half-empty cup on the table, wincing as a wave of pain overcame her. Breaking out into a cold sweat, she tried to shake her head. “You’ll never get away with this…”

“With what? Killing you?” He shrugged. “Eighteen year old girls disappear every day on this street, Charlie. Besides me, there’s no one who cares enough for you to even look for your body. But don’t worry…” He tapped the papers in his hand with a triumphant grin. “I’ll always remember you and the contribution you gave towards jumpstarting my career.” 

Charlotte reached out a rapidly weakening hand, wishing she could grab him, hurt him… kill him. Instead, it fell uselessly to her side, unable to reach him. 

_He’s right… my life… has it really been this worthless? Wasted my life protecting someone who betrayed me. My writing stolen and published by someone else. No family, and my only friend in the world… just poisoned me._

_No one will find me._

_No one will miss me._

 Charlotte’s eyes started to close, as her heart was overcome with despair.

_I don’t want to die… not like this._

Darkness closed in.

Charlotte woke up to the sound of crying. Her head felt heavy, her body weak. She moved her arms and legs, opening her eyes and trying to gauge her surroundings.

_What in the world…?_

Everything was big. She was in an unfamiliar room, surrounded by furniture towering above her. Her gaze was slightly unfocused, and try as she might, Charlotte couldn’t piece together where she was. 

“Charlotte, sweetie, don’t cry!” A woman seeming 10 feet tall to her view, leaned over her with a kind smile, reaching down to pick her up. Charlotte panicked, waving her arms to catch her balance, opening her mouth to complain. 

“Waaahh!”

 _Wah?_ _That’s not what I meant to say at all!_ Charlotte tried to speak again, but it only came out as nonsensical babbling.  _Did I have a stroke?_  She reached out to grab to giant woman, to catch her attention, only to be distracted by the sight of her hand. 

It was her hand… but it wasn’t. It was a child’s hand… a baby’s hand. 

“What’s wrong dear?” A gentle appearing man entered the room, reaching out to stroke Charlottes head with a concerned expression. 

“I don’t know!” The woman replied, frowning. “She was crying, but she doesn’t seem hungry.” A hand pulled at Charlotte’s pants, causing her to let out an angry screech of protest. “She doesn’t need changing.”

“Maybe she’s excited?” The man grinned. “It will be her first birthday soon after all.”

“She doesn’t know that.”

“Who knows,” He shrugged. “Maybe she  _does_ know deep down.”

“Well, she’s calmed down now. Let’s put her down in the crib, maybe she’s tired?” 

Against her will, Charlotte was placed into a crib and left alone. She laid on her back, her mind racing. 

_Don’t panic. Let’s go over facts._

_Last thing I remember is confronting that jerk Peter and being poisoned._

_Then I woke up in the body of an infant, also named Charlotte._

_Did I reincarnate or something?_

Charlotte shook her head, frustrated. Either way, she wouldn’t find the answers while trapped in this crib. Slowly, carefully, she climbed out of it, lowering herself to the ground while feeling some concern over how easy it was to escape from. 

_Should I send a letter to the manufacturer? It shouldn’t be this easy to get out of… NO! Focus, Charlotte!_

Crawling in the direction her new body’s parents had left in, she found them in the living room watching the news. After a brief moment of thought she started to crawl past the door, eager to explore the rest of the house. 

“In other news today, the best selling novel “Searching for Silence” written by Peter McAllen, is being planned for a movie adaption!” 

Charlotte screeched to a halt in front of the doorway after hearing the news anchor on the television spout a familiar name. 

“The book features a story of a young girl growing up on the streets while protecting her close friend from harm. Despite only being out on the shelves for around a year, it has been nominated for multiple awards and recently a new movie adaption offer. The author has made an official statement:”

Charlottes gaze locked on the screen as a familiar face appeared on it. 

“I’m excited for the chance to work with the screenwriters and really bring the work to life.” 

Wishing she had more teeth to grin in frustration, Charlotte clenched her small chubby fist in the air. 

It was published close to a year ago, which would have been around the time she died. If her new parents were to be believed, that was also around the time she was born. 

_Maybe I have been reincarnated?_

Whichever the reason, Charlotte found she couldn’t look away as the man who betrayed her, her worst enemy, smiled on the television.

“I don’t care how famous you are. I will track you down and hurt you. I will have my revenge!”

… Or at least, that’s what she meant to say. 

“BAHABA TEE MAMAMAMA!” 

_Crap, forgot I was a baby._

“Charlotte, were you calling for your Mama?” The woman smiled, getting up from the chair and reaching down to pick her up. As she cuddled with Charlotte, though, she paused, her forehead wrinkling. 

“Wait, weren’t you in the crib?”

_Busted._

As Charlotte was carried back towards the baby prison, she stared at the man on the screen, her large childish eyes squinting with hatred.

_Just wait until I get bigger. You’re going to regret betraying me, killing me._

_I’m going to make you wish I was never reborn._

…

_But first… my diaper needs changed._


	2. Chapter 2

“Now Sweetie, it’s perfectly normal to be really nervous, but I don’t want you to worry, your dad and I are here for you!” 

Trying to have a private conversation was difficult given the loud noise of the room, but Charlotte’s mother tried her best. She leaned closer, smiling reassuringly at her five-year-old daughter, who sat there calmly. 

“I’m not nervous.”

“Do you want to play with the other children?” Charlotte’s father suggested hopefully. 

Charlotte raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t think that’s really the best idea, Dad. After all, they’re my competition.” 

The two adults looked over her head, meeting each other’s gazes with a tired sigh. They knew from experience that once their daughter decided something, it was almost impossible to change her mind. 

“Do you want to read a book?” 

At his words, Charlotte looked up, her tiny smile lighting up her face like a sunrise. He grinned back, feeling certain that his daughter was the most adorable kid in the room… possible ever. She stretched out her small hand towards him and for a moment he thought she wanted to be picked up. He was just leaning over to comply when…

“Newspaper, please.” 

…

Charlotte’s dad pulled back, and handed over his newspaper with another sigh.

Charlotte was a special child. 

She had always been a good baby, she slept through the night, only crying when she was hungry or needed to be changed, and he had naively thought that since the first part had gone so smoothly, that he was ready for whatever came next.

Not even close. 

Once her first birthday came, Charlotte seemed to be an almost different child overnight. She was potty trained within a few days, speaking words, followed by sentences in short order. With the ability to talk she seemed immediately to grasp the art of logic and arguing. Which would have been fine, if she hadn’t been so good at it. As her father he despaired that in the four years since she spoke her first words, he had yet to win a single argument. He was also fairly certain that what they fought about was not what other children fought with their parents about. 

_“I want a subscription to this magazine.”_

_“Isn’t that just political and economic articles? How about a book about a puppy?”_

_“…”_

THAT particular comment had earned him one of her well known exasperated looks, the one that always left him feeling slightly childish, followed by a prolonged lecture from his daughter on the importance of staying up to date on current events. He couldn’t even be too upset, after all, it was good that she wanted to learn about the world around her. He just wished that she would go about it in a more normal way for her age. Charlotte’s father was convinced that she was a genius, but their pediatrician just assured him that all new parents felt that way. The doctor’s condescending tone made him grit his teeth, making a mental note that if the young man ever got in an argument with his daughter, he wouldn’t save him. The doctor had clearly brought it on himself.

Despite her peculiarities, He loved her dearly. Charlotte was an affectionate child, often wanting to spend every free moment with her parents, made extremely happy by simple gestures of affection like hugs. When he asked her about it, Charlotte simply shrugged and gave him a sad smile. “There are children all over the world who never get to know what having a parent say ‘I love you’ feels like.” She paused then, giving the impression that she was looking off into the distance at an unpleasant memory. “I love you and mom, and don’t want to take it for granted.” 

Charlotte’s father and mother made sure to tell her they loved her every day after that. 

But above all, Charlotte was a stubborn child. 

“Mom, Dad, I’m going to audition for a part in a movie.” She didn’t seem to be asking permission more than simply notifying them. He had stared at his daughter in shock, unsure of where this sudden desire to act had come from. Fortunately, his wife was faster to respond. 

“What movie?” 

Charlotte held up a book. “They are adapting the book ‘Searching for Silence’ into a movie.” She smiled cutely. “The screenplay was passed around between a few companies, and got delayed a few years, fortunately, so they are only sending out casting calls now.” 

Recovering from his shock, Charlotte’s father cleared his throat. “F-fortunately?”

“Well, if they started filming when they planned to, I would have been too young to play Edith.”

He looked at the book in her hands, recognizing it. It was one of the first books they bought for her, at her request. She had clutched the paperback to her chest at the time, looking both happy and sad to be holding it. She didn’t seem to read it often, but always kept it nearby, as if it was something important to her. Considering all this, it made a little sense that she was interested in being in the movie.

“I understand you’re excited, Sweetie, but it’s not like we can pack up and…”

“It’s being filmed here in town, and the casting call was distributed locally for the children’s parts.” 

“Are you sure?”

“…” There was that exasperated look again. Charlotte’s father shook his head. 

“…Silly question. When is the audition?”

“Tomorrow, I’ve already submitted all the paperwork.” 

His wife knelt down in front of their daughter, her face serious. “This would be a big responsibility, a lot of work. Plus there’s no guarantee that you will get the part even if you audition. Are you sure you want to go?”

Charlotte nodded, her face determined. 

“Don’t worry. I am the only one who could properly play Edith. I just have to make them realize it.” 

* * *

And so they were here, in this waiting room with a crowd of children and their families. An air of anxiety hung around the room, dampening the noise somewhat. Even the parents fidgeted in their seats, having difficulty with the atmosphere. 

Well… one person was fine.

Charlotte sat on her chair, her tiny legs dangling off the edge, and calmly read her newspaper, turning the pages with a derisive snort. 

“Politicians really are the scum of the earth.”

“…”

Charlotte’s father felt like crying. Was that really something a five-year old girl should be saying? But it wasn’t like he could disagree with her. 

As he was deciding whether or not to say something, his daughter stood up, folding her newspaper carefully before heading down the hallway where the auditions were taking place.  Charlotte’s mother reached out a hand. 

“You have to wait your turn, sweetie.” 

Charlotte gave her  _the look._  “I have to go to the restroom.”

“Oh.” 

Seeing his wife nodding quietly, he stood up as well.

“Where are you going?”

He smiled at his daughter’s question. “I’ll walk you to the bathroom.”

Now  _the look_  was turned towards him, but the pitying amusement in it was that much more pointed. “Do you really think I’ll get lost on my way to the toilet?” 

He wanted to argue, but under the pressure of his daughter’s gaze, he slowly sat back down. She smiled at him, as if the terrible expression she had shown just moments before was simply an illusion. “Thanks, Dad!”

With that she was gone.

He looked over at his wife, who shrugged and said a single sentence. “She takes after you.” 

He wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not. 

* * *

 

Charlotte left the bathroom, looking around as she entered the hallway once more. She honestly wanted to take her time. The nervous energy in the waiting room was driving her bonkers. In the eighteen years of her last life, she had been in many horrible tense, even life-threatening situations, so this sort of mild stage fright meant little to her, but that didn’t mean she reveled in other children’s discomfort. 

_It makes it harder to blend in._

Charlotte knew she was already doing a fairly terrible job of pretending to be a normal child, but she couldn’t help it. A girl could only take so many nursery rhymes and picture books before going crazy. Fortunately, despite her oddities, her parents had remained loving and supportive. 

 

 _If there’s anything that makes dying in my previous life worth it, it’s having a family in this one._  Charlotte smiled as she thought about the loving parents waiting for her in the waiting room. Having someone who cared about you, who protected you, was something she had no experience with. 

_In my last life, I was always the one doing the protecting. Of course, that rat bastard paid back all the years I cared for him by murdering me._

She cracked her knuckles, her smile turning cruel as she fantasized about punching his face in. She was completely unaware of how odd a small five-year old girl plotting revenge appeared. Fortunately, no one was close enough to see the evil expression formed from her childish features. 

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” A quiet cry for help echoed down the hallway. Curious, Charlotte peeked around the corner, and was greeted by the sight of a young girl around her age jumping up and down, trying to reach a teddy bear that was being held up by an older boy. Keeping it just out of her reached, the boy chuckled and taunted her. “Why aren’t you grabbing it? I’m trying to give it to you!”

“PLEASE!” 

“It’s not my fault you’re so short, wimp!”  

Charlotte watched this scene silently. It wasn’t that she was unused to cruelty. This sort of bullying was tame from what she had faced growing up while trying to protect Peter. IF it was the old her, she wouldn’t have hesitated to jump in and help. Charlotte always had a weak spot for those who couldn’t protect themselves. 

But now…

Peter’s smiling face as he watched her die came to mind, and her fists clenched at her sides. She had given up everything to protect someone before, and what had it gotten her? She had become a nameless corpse on the streets before being old enough to legally drink. 

_Why bother helping people? They’re just going to betray me, just like he did. I’m better off just focusing on my revenge._

That was how she felt…

“Please don’t hurt him!” The girl was sobbing as she tried again to reach the bear, falling to the ground as she lost her balance. 

But why couldn’t she just walk away?

* * *

 

Bruce laughed at the girl crying on the ground as he prepared to rip the head off of the stuffed bear. Ignoring her screams, his muscles had just tensed, preparing to start tearing when…

“That’s enough, little boy.” A soft voice called out, and suddenly the world spun around him. Confused, he found himself on his back, with a smiling little girl standing above him, one foot on his chest. 

_Had she flipped him?_

Bruce tried to stand up, but was stopped by the pressure of her foot on his chest. Dropping the bear, he tried to push her foot off of him. 

Only to be surprised that he couldn’t budge her at all. 

Bruce was 8 years old, and tall for his age. Growing up faster than the children around him, he soon discovered that he could easily pick on the smaller ones without consequence.

Until this girl almost half his size threw him to the ground. 

“What are you…”

“SHHH.” The girl gently placed a finger in front of her mouth, motioning him to be quiet. Something about her smile… the look in her eyes… Bruce started feeling scared and fell silent. 

“I was going to ignore you, my bullying little friend, but unlucky for you, my parents have done their best to raise me right, and I don’t want to disappoint them in this lifetime.” 

She pressed down a little with her foot, making it difficult to breathe. “I’ll let you off easy this time, because you’re a child. But know this: People who pick on the weak are trash. And trash will always be thrown away and destroyed.” Her gaze seemed to pierce through him, making him slightly uncomfortable. 

“Do you understand me?”

Bruce nodded silently. 

“Good. Now give the girl back her bear and we’ll count this matter as over with.” She let him up, and after blinking in confusion a few times, he picked up the bear and handed it to the crying little girl who hugged it tightly. 

Nodding in satisfaction, the scary girl turned to walk away. 

“Wait!” Bruce found himself calling out without realizing it. The girl had turned back, making him feel nervous. “What’s your name?”

The girl raised an eyebrow at the question. “Charlotte.”

“C-Can I be your friend?” 

“No.” The immediate answer dropped his spirits, and he looked down, disappointed. Why had he been bullying other kids?! Now she hated him. 

The girl with the teddy bear stood up, wiping her tears, her face hopeful. “Can  _I_ be your friend?”

“No.” Again, a strong reply without hesitation. 

Both children were shocked. They had assumed Charlotte had said no to Bruce because he was a bully. But… 

“Why?” The girl frowned, looking offended, but Charlotte simply laughed. 

“I don’t want to be friends with little kids.” 

And with that, she was gone, leaving the two to stare at each other in confusion. 

“Is-isn’t she a little kid too?” The girl asked. 

The boy shook his head silently, unsure. 

She continued on, watching in the direction Charlotte had left in. “She’s so cool!” 

Bruce nodded in response. 

* * *

 

Charlotte was going the wrong way. Having gotten turned around due to stopping the previous fight, she was unclear of which way she needed to go to get back to the waiting room. 

 _Maybe I should have let Dad walk me._ She was about to turn around and walk the way she came, when she overheard another conversation.

“I’m asking YOU so stop avoiding this! You should know her motivations better than anyone!” 

Two men were standing in a room, arguing. One she recognized from the press releases as Mark Tottle, an award winning director who and taken on the project. He was the one currently shouting, a few pages of script crumpled in his hand. As for the person he was yelling at…

Charlotte sucked in a startled breath at the sight of the man she hated more than anyone else in the world. 

Peter. 

He stood there, looking just as he did when she had died, an annoyed expression on his face when as he stood before the furious director. 

“I don’t understand the problem, Mark. She’s protecting the other kid. What other motivation does she need?”

The director rolled his eyes, slapping the pages of the script against his palm.

“I’m talking about this line here! The one which is taken word for word from YOUR BOOK by the way.” Placing a finger on a line, he read with a disgruntled expression. “Edith has just saved Jordan, the boy she treats like a brother, and after he thanks her she just stares at him and says two words. ‘If only…’” 

Peter shrugged. “So?”

“SO… What the heck is she talking about?! The script doesn’t make it clear what her emotions should be. Is she happy, angry, sad? I need to understand the material to be able to get the right performance out of my actors!”

“How should I know?” 

“YOU’RE THE AUTHOR!”

“Why don’t you take that little script of yours and shove it up…”

“She’s regretful.” 

Charlotte’s voice was quiet, but it stopped the two men in her tracks. 

Peter glared at her, “Little girl, go back with the other children.”

“Wait!” The director held out his hand. “I want to hear about what she has to say.” He knelt down, until the two were eye to eye. “What do you mean regretful?” 

“When she says ‘if only’ Edith is wishing things were different. She means ‘If only you had never been born.’ ‘If only you and i had never met, so that you would never have the chance to depend on me.’ She wished he had died with his family, so she could miss him like she misses her parents, instead of him dragging her down.” 

“That’s bullshit!” Peter snorted, forgetting his opponent was a small child. “Edith loves Jordan. She would never think something like that.”

Charlotte laughed. How amusing to be lectured about the character she wrote based on herself by the man whom she based the other character off of. He still was so clueless.

“Edith is a strong character, one who loves and protects her friend no matter what it costs her.”

“See… there’s no way…”

“But she isn’t a saint. Or a martyr.” Charlotte continued, her words silencing Peter in his tracks. “She’s human, and it’s human nature to want to be happy, to live an easy life. She has moments where she wishes she didn’t have to sacrifice everything to protect her friend.”

The director nodded slowly. “But she never says…”

“She cares about Jordan, enough to not say out loud what she feels. That’s why she never gets past ‘if only’. She doesn’t want him to know that sometimes she regrets rescuing him.” 

“…” The two men stared at her in silence. Peter seemed lost in his own memories, looking at them with a fresh perspective, while the director looked taken aback. 

“Where did you hear this?”

 _I wrote the book._ “I read the book over and over until I feel like I know the characters better than myself.” 

“Who are you?” He asked, curiosity apparent on his face. 

Charlotte grinned, sticking out a hand to shake his much larger one. 

“I’m the girl who’s going to play Edith in your movie.”

He smiled back. “Pretty sure that part hasn’t been cast yet.”

“Doesn’t make it not true.” 

Laughing quietly, the director straightened up, looking at her with a respectful gaze. “We’ll let the auditions decide. I’m looking forward to seeing what you can do, given your understanding of the character.”

“See you there.” Rather than seeming pressured by his words, Charlotte met his gaze straight on with a confident expression. Shaking his head with a soft sigh, the director walked away slowly, studying the script with new vigor. 

Peter and Charlotte were left alone. 

* * *

Peter stood rooted to the spot, his mind still going over the words of the little girl who stood nearby. 

_Had she really thought that about me sometimes?_

He knew that Charlotte had written the book based on their real lives, but…

_She was always so perfect._

Peter had always resented his childhood friend. Always smiling, always brave, never panicked, she was barely a few months older than him, but protected and cared for him better than most adults could have. 

 _“I’m so glad you’re here.”_  She had smiled and hugged him, even after he caused trouble that forced her to fight and get hurt. It was depressing, why was she so much better than him at everything? Before he knew it, the gratitude he felt for her help was outpaced by the resentment he felt at her ability to handle everything with a smile. 

 _I always wanted to bring her down to my level._  And he had. He had finally stripped the smile from her face, made her angry and sad. Right before she died she had worn a wonderful face, one filled with bitterness and regret. 

But he had to wonder…

_“She isn’t a saint or a martyr.” Had she just been pretending to be okay that whole time for his sake? Struggling just as much as him, but unwilling to show it because she didn’t want him to feel guilty?_

It made him uncomfortable to think about. 

“Idiot.” 

The single word was filled with disgust and hatred. Surprised, Peter looked around, trying to find the source of the insult. The only person nearby was the small child, a sweet looking girl who stared at him with a blank expression. 

“Did you just…”

“You heard me.” 

It was unnerving, hearing such a cold voice from a little girl. Angry, he leaned over her, trying to be intimidating. “That’s not a very nice word, little girl.”

She raised an eyebrow, seemingly not impressed. “Should I use a better one than? How about imbecile?” She smiled, “Or something like fraud or liar?”

Peter was taken aback, he straightened up, unsure of how to respond. 

“What do you…?”

“You didn’t write this book did you?”

Peter felt the blood drain from his face. “That’s ridiculous. How dare you say something like that?”

“Then why don’t you understand your own characters?” 

“That’s… I mean… I’m not going to argue with a child!”

“Probably a good plan, given that you’re losing.” 

He gritted his teeth at her condescending expression. 

“I don’t care what you say. I wrote this book. Now go back to your parents, little girl, before something bad happens to you.” He thought his threats would frighten her, but instead she laughed, causing a chill to run down his spine. 

“What are you going to do in this building full of people? All I have to do is scream and they’ll come running. Then how would you explain threatening a five-year-old girl?” She stepped forward, and unconsciously Peter backed away. “Even if you stopped me from screaming, you were the last person to be seen with me, making you the prime suspect, should I disappear. That might tarnish your beautiful reputation.”

“What- what are you?” He was stuttering. She didn’t seem like a child, the way she looked at him… it brought back memories he wanted to forget. Of a girl who had also stood before him, a confident grin on her face. But that girl had been protecting him… this one… 

“I’m your worst nightmare.” With that, the little girl waved goodbye, and turned around and walked away. Her mannerisms were so familiar, so haunting, that unconsciously, Peter found himself whispering a name he hadn’t said in years. 

“Charlotte.”

“Yes?” The girl paused, smiling. “How did you guess my name?” 

No… Peter shook his head, backing away further. “I-I…” 

“I’m looking forward to working with you. Let’s talk again.”

She was gone. Peter fell to the ground, his back against a wall, his face breaking out in a cold sweat.

_Why did her name have to be Charlotte?_

Peter shuddered.  _I must be cursed._

His eyes narrowing, he slowed his breathing, trying to calm his frantically beating heart. It didn’t matter what her name was. He would just have to make sure she didn’t get picked as the actress playing Edith. It should be easy as the author. He would never have to work with her again.

_You’re just a child, I’m an adult, a successful writer. In the end, I’ll be the winner. I’ll make you regret looking down on me._

_No matter what._


	3. Chapter 3

_I hate child actors._

Director Mark Tuttle sighed loudly as he watched yet another young girl robotically recite her lines. Her small hands clutched the script tightly, shaking slightly with nervousness. 

“I. Will. Protect. You.” 

 _What was with all the unnatural pauses?_  Mark suspected it had something to do with the child’s mother, who stood off to the side with a stiff, botox-enhanced smile while giving a thumbs up to her daughter. The look in that woman’s eyes… Mark shuddered, making a mental note to stay far away. She looked like the type that might stab him for not choosing her daughter.

“No. One. Will. Take. You. Away.”

And there was no way in hell he was choosing this girl.

 _Although sadly, she is one of the better ones of the bunch._  The girl before had burst into tears halfway through her lines and had to be carried out, and one lost interest one sentence in and started monologue about how much she loved her pet cat. It gave him a headache just thinking about the options for the lead. Fortunately he was able to fairly easily find a child to play the boy character Jordan’s part. The personality was a little off, and it didn’t help the little twerp was the son of one of the executive producers, but at least the kid could act. The side parts were filled without too much difficulty as well.

Now all that was left was to find the main lead.

The girl left awkwardly after finishing her lines, leaving the group, which consisted of him, a couple of producers the head of casting and Peter the author, to discuss her performance. 

“She wasn’t too bad.” Peter spoke up first. 

“Wasn’t too bad?” Lacy, the head of casting, glared at the writer. “I’m so sorry for your loss, when is the funeral?”

Peter looked confused. “What do you mean?

“I assume you want to mourn the death of your good taste.”

“Everyone!” Mark cut in before the two could argue further. “Let’s not get carried away. The girl made it through her lines, but was definitely stiff. That may resolve with some coaching but for now candidates 3 and 14 remain our top choices.”

“At least they could somewhat act.” One of the producers grumbled. 

“I think candidate 3 was fantastic, why are we even bothering to continue auditions?!” Peter seemed slightly frantic as he cut in again. “Did her mother slip you money? Or do you just have irritable bowels and need to leave the room to find a toilet?”

“Lacy…” Mark’s tone was not amused.

“I’m just saying, we all have places we would like to be, but I for one would like to consider ALL the candidates for the LEAD of this MULTIMILLION dollar production. Unlike  _some people_  I take pride in my work!”

“Hey!”

“Who says I was talking about you, Peter?”

“You were LITERALLY pointing at me!”

“That’s a surprise… given your previous statements, I just assumed you were blind.” 

“SHUSH, or I physically separate you two.” Glaring at the offenders, he waited until they had both nodded with agreement before continuing. “Now. There is one candidate left to audition. Number 19. Lets hear her act before we come to any final decisions.” 

Turning towards the door he gestured to the aide standing there. “Bring in nineteen.” 

As they waited for the last girl to walk on the makeshift stage, Mark noticed his heartbeat quicken with excitement. 

 _I wonder what kind of performance she’ll give us?_  Thinking of the child’s clear answers and determined gaze from before, he couldn’t help but look forward to seeing her acting skills. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but found them raised nonetheless.

The girl walked in, her face still showing a confident expression similar to before. Her parents walked in behind her, sitting in the corner quietly. Mark couldn’t help but smirk to himself at their average presence. 

_How did two nice, normal people like that give birth to such a strange child?_

Once she was positioned in front of them, he leaned forward, giving no indication that he had met her before. 

“On the table beside you in a script for one of Edith’s key scenes. We will give you a few moments to look it over, and then will ask you to perform it. Lacy here will read the lines of the other characters. Do you understand?” 

“Yes.” There was no hesitation. She picked up the script and seemed to casually glance through it before lightly tossing it back on the table. 

“I’m ready.” 

“…” The group looked at each other uncomfortably. Finally Lacy pulled the microphone towards herself, clearing her throat. 

“You have to perform the lines on the script as written.”

The little girl raised an eyebrow, her amused expression somehow making everyone questioning her to feel… childish. “I’m aware.”

“You’re ready?”

“So I’ve said.”

Peter let out a contemptuous snort at the girl’s confidence, but fortunately stayed silent. 

“Then you may begin.” 

Nodding her head, the girl took a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly. When she opened them, everyone found themselves leaning in, drawn by the change in the atmosphere around her. The cute little girl with the confident appearance was gone. 

In her place was someone different… someone dangerous. 

The air around her seemed tense, as if every muscle was poised to strike when needed. Her face was calm, almost expressionless, but her eyes… her eyes spoke volumes. They showed the soul of someone who trusted no one but herself, and was willing to fight to the death to protect herself and her own. They were the eyes of someone willing to take down the person in front of her or die trying.

“Leave us alone.” The voice was cold, threatening.

“Why should I?” Lacy playing the part of a thug, answered with a perfect belligerent tone.

The girl smiled, but it was only stretching her face, her eyes remained cold and angry. 

“You might think we’re weak targets because we’re young, but you’ve got it wrong. I may not be stronger than you now, but I will be. All I have is time, and if you refuse to leave us alone… that time will be devoted to finding a way to destroy you.” Her hands clenched at her sides, if Mark didn’t know better, he would think she was ready to leap across the table and stab Lacy. His eyes wide, he motioned for Lacy to move on to the next scene. 

“Why do they want to hurt us, Edith?” Lacy held out her script for a moment, showing the girl the new spot they were picking up from. Her voice had changed into a higher pitch suitable for a young, scared boy. The girl nodded, continuing the scene from where Lacy had left off. 

“I will protect you.” Mark’s eyes opened wide, the girl’s threatening atmosphere had disappeared without a trace. What was left was a smiling, kind girl, giving off the atmosphere of a doting older sister. 

“But…”

“No one will take you away from me.” The sentence was final, her confidence shining through. It was as if every part of her was striving to convince him that she would take care of him, even while her shoulders looked too thin to handle even the lightest of burdens. 

Mark found himself breaking out into a large smile.

 _This is her_.  _We’ve found our Edith._

 She was more than great, she was the living embodiment of the character he wanted to create. Small but strong, young but determined. Dangerous when needed to protect herself and her loved ones, but gentle in front of the boy she swore to take care of.

Perfect.

The others in the group smiled widely, the atmosphere relaxed as they all confirmed silently that she was the right candidate. Well… everyone except…

“You made a mistake.” Peter’s eyes were narrowed, a deep frown on his face. 

“Mistake?” The girl asked, but no nervousness could be found on her face. 

“The line was ‘No one _can_  take you away.’ Not ‘No one  _will_ take you away  _from me._ ’” He shook his head. “If you hadn’t been so casual about studying the script, you wouldn’t have made that mistake.” 

Mark frowned.  _What was this idiot doing?_ This girl was by far the best candidate they had seen, but he seemed to want to find faults with her performance.

The girl didn’t lose her cool. “My apologies, I said the line as it was written in the book.”

“You can’t possibly know that…”

“Page 283, line 10.” 

Peter froze at these words, but Lacy grabbed a copy of the novel from the table and found the page she had cited. 

“Wow, she’s right.” 

“So she happened to memorize one line, big deal.”

Lacy rolled her eyes. “And how did she know how to memorize that one particular line?”

“Luck.”

The girl spoke up again. “You can pick any page from the book, and I’ll act out Edith’s lines.” 

Mark stood up. “There’s no need for us to go this far.”

“Ha. You’re just afraid your little favorite can’t follow through on her boasting.” Peter grinned, snatching the book from Lacy and turning to a random page. 

“Peter…”

“It’s fine.” The girl smiled at him, and the director found himself shaking his head ruefully. 

“Alright then. Go ahead Peter.”

“Page 102.”

Her smile stayed in place. “I’ll start from the top of the page.” Again the atmosphere changed, she hunched over, clutching her side as if hurt. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with pain, she bit her lip with enough force that Mark was worried that it would start to bleed.

“You think a little hit like that is enough to stop me?” Her voice was so cold that it seemed to chill the air around her. 

Peter frowned, obviously wanting to find fault with her acting but unable to. 

“Page 68.”

“Page 341.” 

One after the other he tested her over and over, and each time she recited the dialogue from the book perfectly. Finally, when he called out a page number, she didn’t speak or act, but simply stood up, glaring at the author. 

“What? Can’t you do it?” 

Mark sighed as the other man taunted the five year old.  _Didn’t he realize how foolish he looked trying to bully a little kid?_

The girl didn’t flinch. Staring at him silently for a few moments, she shook her head slowly, as if disappointed. 

“Edith’s character doesn’t appear on that page.”

“…”

“…” 

Peter read down the page and then snapped the book shut with an angry expression. 

“Thank you, you may go, we’ll let you know the results shortly.” 

Giving him a thumbs up, the girl left the room calmly, taking her stunned parents with her. 

“I don’t like her attitude.” Peter snapped out right away. 

Lacy stood up, visibly frustrated. “Who cares?!” She threw her hands up in the air. “That child could be the anti-christ for all I care, as long as she can act that well, we  _have_  to cast her!”

“But…”

“I think we are all in agreement.” Mark coolly interrupted the author, tired of his absurd excuses. “Candidate 19 will be cast as the main lead.”

Glancing down at his papers to read her information, he smiled. 

“Welcome to the cast, Charlotte.” 

Satisfied, he focused on tidying up his papers and preparing to leave. He felt no need to pay any further attention to the annoying writer. 

Later he would regret it. He would wish he had looked over, that any of them had. That they would have studied the odd behavior Peter was showing just a little bit closer. But they didn’t. And so no one in the room noticed when Peter jerked at the sound of the child’s name, his face settling into an uncontrolled expression of rage. 

* * *

“Congratulations, Charlotte!” When they got the call, her parents were overjoyed, hugging her tightly. 

Charlotte grinned back at them, feeling relieved despite her previous appearance of confidence. 

_I wasn’t sure how much influence Peter would have on the casting. Not much, fortunately._

“You must be so excited! Our little girl is going to be a star!” Her dad swung her around in the air, beaming from ear to ear. “But of course we knew you would get the part!” He set her down. “You were amazing in there? How did you learn to act so well?” His voice betrayed his amazement at his daughter’s talent.

 _Years of growing up having to lie to survive. Where the difference between someone believing me or not could mean failing to protect Peter…_  “I must take after you, dad!” 

He chuckled at her wide, innocent eyes and charming words. “Shameless flatterer.”

Her mom spoke up. “Like she said, takes after you.” 

All three laughed and hugged before finally settling back down into a normal routine. Left to her own devices, Charlottes gaze grew sharp, as she sat in her room, planning.

Initially her plan had been to simply infiltrate the cast of the movie, and ruin it. She hadn’t wanted Peter to profit from his theft. But after reading the script, and meeting some of the staff who seemed genuinely passionate about bringing  _her story_  to the screen… she had changed her mind. She would star in the movie, give her characters the performance they deserved, and help this movie succeed. As for Peter… well, it was already fairly obvious that he couldn’t hold up under pressure when it cam to pretending to be the author of the book. With all the attention from a successful movie… and a few helpful hints from her… he would crack. 

And when he did, she would be there to make sure everyone knew him for the fraud he was. 

* * *

Not too long after, it was Charlotte’s first day on the set. Arriving with her father, who looked more nervous than she did, she was immediately greeted by a familiar looking woman. 

“Hi Charlotte, I’m Lacy!” She bent down to Charlotte’s level, extending a hand with a smile. Charlotte took it, slightly confused. 

“Weren’t you in charge of casting?”

The woman’s smile widened. “Good memory! I’ve decided to stay on scene and assist with coaching the child actors. My background is mainly as an acting coach, so you can depend on me.”

Tilting her head slightly to the side, Charlotte studied the woman carefully.  _She doesn’t seem to have any bad intentions._  Charlotte thought back to when she had seen them all in the audition room, Lacy had been sitting on the opposite end of the table as Peter, almost as if they had been separated, and the writer had often looked over to glare at her as if displeased. 

_Well the enemy of my enemy…_

Pulling her hand back, she tried her best to naturally smile back. “I look forward to working with you!”

“Me too!” Lacy chuckled. “Actually it was your performance at the auditions that made me want to get back into it. I just have a feeling that working with you won’t be boring.”

“I’ll try not to disappoint.”  
  


Lacy led her into a room with several other children. “We’ll start with a read through from one of the scenes on the script, to help all of you get used to working together. Everyone, this is Charlotte, who will be playing Edith, our lead. Come say hi!” 

A small group of children crowded over to obediently introduce themselves. Charlotte recognized two familiar faces. “Hey, it’s bully boy and teddy bear girl!” 

“My name is Bruce, not bully boy!” The taller, older boy seemed to shrink down under her gaze, his retort muttered towards the ground. 

“And I’m Laura!” The little girl grinned widely as she bounced in place nearby, apparently excited to see Charlotte. They both had snagged side character roles, interestingly enough that of a bully and her henchman. 

“You’re playing a bully?” Charlotte raised an eyebrow at the timid young girl, who flinched. 

“Y-you don’t think I can?”

“Who cares what I think? If you want to play a bully, go all out!” Lightly slapping the little girl’s back, she moved on to greet all the other child actors. Finally, there was just one person left. 

“Hey Charlotte.” The boy in front of her smiled sweetly, his delicate features making him seem vulnerable, needing protection. He stood in front of her, one hand extended out. For a moment, just a split second, his imaged overlapped with another in her memories, causing her to flinch backwards. 

“Peter.” The word was whisper, but the boy heard it and was confused. 

“No, I’m Brandon. I’ll be playing Jordan.” He shrugged, giving off an even brighter smile. “Guess we’ll be playing best friends.” 

He still hadn’t lowered his hand, but Charlotte just stared at it, unwilling to touch him. Now that she looked at him closer, it was easy to tell he looked nothing like Peter as a young boy, but there was something about his expression, the light in his eyes… 

 _He’s the same kind of person, the kind who would smile while he stabbed you in the back._ Charlotte found herself wishing she were in a different room.

“What’s wrong? Are you afraid of touching boys are something?- OOF!” Bruce, still standing off to the side, had seen her reaction and teased her without thinking, ending his sentence bent over with her fist in his gut. 

“Charlotte, hitting is mean.” Lacy admonished her halfheartedly. She then paused and added. “Strong work on hitting him where the marks won’t show on camera, though.”

Brandon’s smile wavered as he slowly lowered his hand. His mask was near perfect, in the past Charlotte might have fallen for it, and thought him an innocent, friendly boy. 

But she knew someone with an even better mask. Compared to Peter, this kid was an amateur at hiding his disdain fro her and everyone around her. She backed away further, not wanting to accidentally touch him. 

“Hey” Laura, the small girl from before, grabbed onto her sleeve and whispered in her ear. “Brandon is the executive producer’s son, My mom told me not to make him angry.”

Charlotte didn’t look away from the boy that made her skin crawl. “So?”

“Didn’t your parents warn you about him?” the girl pressed. 

“Nope. But that’s okay.” Charlotte’s smile turned cruel. “We’ll just stay out of each other’s way. If he leaves me a alone, then i’ll do the same. But if he’s the kind of person i think he is… then his parents should have warned him about me.”


	4. Chapter 4

_Something’s missing._

Brandon leaned back in his chair, sighing with boredom as he waited for his next scene. They had just started filming, and so far all of his scenes had gone very well. He should have been happy, or at least satisfied… instead he felt frustrated. His gaze naturally was drawn to where they were filming, where a short girl wearing ragged clothes was pretending to fight a man twice her size.

Her face was distorted, filled with terror and pain. Every action seemed desperate, as if she was fighting for her life. It was terrifyingly realistic. If he hadn’t known he was watching a movie scene being filmed, could see the cameras pointed at her, he might have thought she was fighting for real.

_Maybe that’s why she doesn’t fall for it._

Brandon had always been a blessed child. Born to wealthy, intelligent parents, he had everything he ever wanted just within reach. He was small for his age, despite being seven years old he looked two years younger. That along with dark hair that was curled just enough to never looked combed and a face that looked innocent, many people upon meeting him assumed he matched his appearance, and was a sweet, weak child in need of protection. Most tried to help him out because of it. Others tried to take advantage of him. All ended up playing right into his hands.

Brandon knew his personality was different from his appearance, but he also knew that if he smiled and acted innocent, then he could quickly get what he wanted. It worked surprisingly well. The director, the adults on set, even his own parents were fooled by the childish façade he hid behind. It made him laugh sometimes, watching people treat him like a naïve child, unknowingly being used by him instead. It made him feel powerful, in control.  

_But it didn’t work on Charlotte._

Brandon had thought she would act like everyone else. That she would fall for his smile, his innocent act, and instantly think they were friends. He assumed that this was the fastest way to achieve a good atmosphere between them, to allow them to act naturally together on set. He had no concerns about his performance, he’d been acting since he was a small child, but an unknown kid… it was better if he brought her to his side. He had smiled, introducing himself and holding out a hand towards her. Brandon expected she would smile back, grab his hand and chatter happily, just like everyone else did.

Instead she had stared at him as if he were a ghost. She had called him by the wrong name, and when he corrected her, although the dazed look in her eyes had faded, the expression with which she looked at him with was even worse.

It was a look of disgust.

Since that time she had avoided him. Sitting as far away from him as possible, ending conversations with monosyllable answers, Charlotte had done everything possible to limit their interactions while still remaining polite and professional. It was a little embarrassing, as it hadn’t been subtle that she didn’t want to be near him. The commiserating looks from the staff, that “you poor thing” attitude from the acting coach and other children made him want to vomit. They were all acting as if her behavior were normal, like any small child afraid of “cooties”. 

He knew better. Brandon saw the look in her eyes, the understanding behind it. She saw him for what he was. And she hated being near him.

Surprisingly, it didn’t affect her acting when they had read scenes together. 

* * *

_“Don’t worry, I’m here to protect you.” Charlotte had smiled at him, so brightly that he felt himself believing her, wanting to trust her._

_“I’m scared.” Barely remembering his lines, he continued practicing the scene._

_“Want to know a secret?” She then leaned forward, a conspiratorial smile on her face, whispering. “I’m scared too.”_

_“Good job you two!” Lacy, the acting coach, had stopped the scene, breaking Brandon from the part. It was like waking up from a pleasant dream, and facing an uncomfortable reality._

_Charlotte, despite having looked at him kindly, the sincerity on her face perfect for the protective friend she was pretending to be, changed. Now she leaned away from him, not wanting to see him._

_Brandon sighed. Seeing the disconnect between the times of sweetness when they were acting and her normal disgust was demoralizing._

* * *

Now that filming had started, his discomfort had only grown worse. Her presence when they were acting together was overwhelming. It pulled him into his character, making it harder to separate himself from it even after the word “Cut!” was heard. 

He was playing Jordan, who in the script was a young boy living on the streets with his friend Edith. Depending on each other, looking out for each other, they faced all sorts of terrible, life threatening situations. Their situation was pitiful. But, despite that, Brandon felt himself envying Jordan.

 _What would it be like to have someone care about you so much they would be willing to risk their life for you?_  He couldn’t help but wonder as he studied the young girl who flipped a fully grown over her shoulder, stepping on his throat with a snarl. The scene was almost over, and then it would be his turn.

“Hey, you’re the producer’s kid, right?” 

An angry voice broke him from his confusion. Looking over, Brandon saw one the teenage actors who played thugs in the next scene. If he remembered correctly, this actor was playing the role of the bully who would have to pretend to beat him up. 

The key word here being “pretend.”

_So why was the guy glaring at him so hard?_

“What can I do for you?”  Brandon kept his voice neutral, his face only showing naïve curiosity. 

“My parents paid good money to your folks to get me onto this movie.” The teenager stepped forward, poking Brandon’s chest with a finger. “So why am I stuck in such a tiny role like this?!”

In the face of the other boy’s fury, Brandon wanted to laugh, but kept his expression controlled. 

_Because even money can only do so much for trash like you._

“I don’t know what you mean!” Brandon blinked a few times, bringing up tears. “If you’re mad at my mommy and daddy…” He trailed off, sniffling a couple of times for dramatic effect. This was about the point where most people would write him off as a weak, innocent child and leave him alone. 

Most people… 

“Stop crying, you little twerp! We paid you, so get me the part I deserve!” Brandon’s collar was grasped and pulled, bringing his face closer to the angry teenager’s. “Otherwise I’ll make sure you and your lying parents regret this!” 

With that last threat, the boy threw him down and stomped off, obviously still furious. 

 _This… isn’t good._  Brandon clenched his fists, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands. He knew his parents weren’t the most honest people, but still, did they have to cheat the actor that would have a chance to “accidentally” do him physical harm? He thought about calling them, but knew at best they would just ignore the call, at worst not believe him, or tell him it was his own problem. Brandon knew from bitter experience that there was no one to help him, he could only depend on himself.

He stared down at the script in his hand, once again wondering what it would be like to be someone like Jordan, who had a friend like Edith. 

_Someone who could see through me. Who I could be myself around._

The script crumpled in his small fist.

_Why even bother imagining it? The truth won’t change. I’m on my own._

He sighed quietly, thinking about the threats from the actor before. 

_Hopefully he won’t beat me up too badly._

It was almost time for his scene. 

* * *

Charlotte crouched on the ground, ignoring the sweat dripping into her eyes as she stared down her three opponents. They circled around her, looking for any opening, hands outstretched to grab her and hold her down. 

_Just like old times._

She worked hard to suppress a vicious smile.

It had been a pleasant surprise that her skills from her past life hadn’t gone away. The knowledge, the muscle memory was still there. It only had to be tweaked for the smaller, weaker body. Even accounting for that, however, she had more than enough ability to participate in the movie’s many fight scenes. Of course, convincing the staff of that…

* * *

_“Now Charlotte, I know it might be scary, but you just have to pretend to fight these men for a few seconds, and then stunt doubles and CGI will do the rest.” Lacy had instructed her with a concerned expression, a comforting hand on her shoulder._

_“I can just fight them, that will be easier.”_

_“… That’s a… very nice offer, but we need it to look real. A little girl like you can’t actually beat up grown men.”_

_Charlotte had grinned in response. “Watch me.”_

_She then proceeded to take down three grown men in a practice fight, ducking under their reaching arms and targeting their weak points. Going up against trained stunt men, even they had to concede that in a real fight they weren’t sure who would win._

_“I’d win.” Charlotte had answered them with such confidence, and given her abilities, no one else wanted to argue with her._

* * *

And so they had decided to let her perform the action scenes as well.

“I’ll kill you!” One of the men, snarled at her, a bat in one hand. Charlotte jerked her head up, at the sound, and targeted the man who spoke. Moving quickly along the ground, she almost seemed as if she were sliding across the floor, she dropped down on her back, slipping between the man’s legs while she kicked the back of his knee, knocking him to the ground. Clambering onto his back, she pulled the bat from his hand and raised it above her head.

“Not if I kill you first.” She grinned, and brought the bat down towards his head.

“CUT!” 

The directors words were like breaking a spell across the room. Charlotte and the actors froze in place, and then sat on the ground with sighs of relief, relaxing.

“Holy crap, little girl!” The stunt man rubbed his knee with a complicated expression. “I know I told you to go all out during our fight, but I honestly thought you were going to kill me for a second.”

“Don’t worry so much!” Charlotte smiled at him sweetly, “If I actually wanted to kill you, you wouldn’t have time to worry about it first.”

“…”

“…”

The three stuntmen stared at each other silently for a few moments. 

“Scary.”

“Yep.”

“Don’t piss her off.” They all nodded in unison, shaking her hand with respect before retreating quickly.

“Charlotte!” Her mother called out, worried, and so she moved closer, smiling and turning around to show she was alright. 

“Don’t worry, Mom, I got this!” She ran her fingers through her now short hair, having had it cut to a close crop to help her portray her character in the movie. 

Her mother reached out and touched her hair as well with a sad smile. 

“You don’t like it?” Charlotte asked nervously. She didn’t know why, but despite never having cared in the past about other’s opinions, she wanted her parents in this life to always be happy.

“You are beautiful, short hair, long hair, all of it.” Her mother grinned. “I’m just a little sad that I can’t put your hair in braids or pigtails anymore. That was mother-daughter time.” Pouting, she hugged Charlotte against her chest tightly. 

“It’s okay, Mom, we’ll do something else together instead.” Charlotte patted her mother’s head gently, having no choice but to grin at her parent’s cute behavior. 

“Okay, don’t forget that you promised!” Her mother agreed with a bright smile.

Chuckling, they both settled down in chairs to watch them set up the next scene. Her costar, Brandon would be threatened by a few thugs, even getting “punched” by one of them. It would eventually lead up to Charlotte stepping in and saving him, but only once the little boy had already gotten beaten up a bit.

“What an adorable little boy.” Her mother muttered quietly, almost unconsciously as she hugged Charlotte closer. Carefully concealing her feelings on her face, Charlotte smiled, but her eyes were cold as they studied the boy preparing for his scene.

_He reminded her of Peter._

There was no way around it. Sweet when he wanted to be, cute when he had to be, no matter the interaction, he always came out on top. HE had been the same way, in her previous life. She noticed it, even back then, how could she not? He used other people for his own gain on a daily basis. But back then she made excuses for him. 

 _It’s to help us survive. Just like how I fight with my fists._ She would argue to herself.

 _He doesn’t pretend with me. We’re always honest with each other._ That delusion had hurt more than any other. She had thought she was different. That his smile for her was genuine. That even though everyone around them was a pawn to Peter, she was family.

She had been wrong. She not only was a pawn, but an easily disposable one. 

So she avoided Brandon, as much as possible. Seeing him made her uncomfortable, like looking into a window of her past. It confused him, irritated him, she knew this. She even felt a little guilty, as it wasn’t like the kid had done anything to her yet. But it was the safest option. 

She relaxed on her mother’s lap, and enjoyed the scene as they acted it out. 

“L-leave me alone.” Brandon was doing a good job, he looked pale, frightened. He backed away slowly from the two teenage boys who approached him, glancing around desperately as if looking for a route to escape. Charlotte was impressed by his skills.

“You’re not getting away this time, brat.” The teenage boy stalking him grinning like a maniac, a violent atmosphere surrounding him. Charlotte felt herself tense up. She had seen him practicing before. He had been tense, uncomfortable, and unable to act at all under pressure. At the time she could only assume that his parents had paid a lot of money to secure him the role, he certainly hadn’t earned it through skills. 

Watching him now, however, she felt she might have judged him too early. 

_If I didn’t know better… He really looks like he’s planning to hurt Brandon._

**Something seemed wrong.**

“No… please.” Brandon fell to the ground begging, still looking around him wildly, as if hoping someone would show up to save him. For one brief moment, their eyes met.

And the world slowed to a crawl. 

She didn’t see the fear he was pretending to show. 

Even the cute and naïve mask he often wore was gone. 

What she saw was a hopeless fatigue. 

Those were the eyes of someone who knew that no one was coming to help them.

She had seen that kind of gaze only once before.

Peter’s eyes had looked like that. Right before she died. When the mask had come off, as he waited for the poison to do its job.

The only time he was ever truly honest with her. 

_He’s actually in trouble._

She didn’t trust Brandon. Didn’t even like the boy. Hated that he reminded her of Peter. Reminded her of a more naïve version of herself who trusted and was betrayed.

But as soon as she realized he was going to be hurt, her body was moving before her brain could catch up.

“DON’T!”

* * *

Brandon had closed his eyes, not wanting to see the blow aimed at his face before it struck. He thought to that moment he had met eyes with that girl. The one who never fell for his lies. Tired, scared, he had forgotten to keep up the act, and just looked at her with a single thought:

_I wish I was Jordan. I wish she was Edith._

_I wish I didn’t have to be alone._

There had been a brief look of the surprise she had shown in that moment, but he knew better than to expect anything. She hated him. Saw him for what he really was. A fake. And so he closed his eyes, hoping that he wouldn’t be injured too badly.

“DON’T!”

BAM!

Brandon heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh without feeling any pain. Shocked, he opened his eyes, and couldn’t believe what he saw. 

Charlotte crouched over him, stubbornly protecting him. One hand clutched her face, where a red mark already was blooming on her cheek where she had taken the blow for him. Despite the fact that it should have knocked her off her feet, she had braced herself on the ground beside him, her body blocking his own. 

Protecting him. 

His wide, shocked gaze met her steady, sad one. 

“Why…?” He heard himself whisper. 

“Old habits die hard.” She gave him a grin, not showing any pain despite the fact that it must have hurt to move her mouth, and Brandon felt his breath stop at the sight. 

“CUT! Charlotte, what are you doing?!”  The director, Mark, ran over, his face stern. “Why did you jump into the shot like that?”

Charlotte stood tall, still blocking Brandon with her body, her back unyielding. “He was actually going to get hurt.”

“No, sweetie, it’s just acting…” Charlotte’s mother tried to jump in, but trailed off at a glare from her daughter, who gestured to her own cheek.

“Does this look like acting to you?” Her face was already swelling, it would be badly bruised by the next morning.

The director’s face stiffened. “What the… What’s the meaning of this?! You were supposed to pull the punch and stop before you actually hit him! We were going to shoot the actual blow from another angle! Why in the hell did you swing so hard?!”

Everyone’s attention turned to the teenage boy who had struck Charlotte, who turned bright white with fear. “I- I…” 

Brandon decided to help him along, bursting into tears. “He threatened to hurt me because my parents didn’t get him a better part in the movie!” He sobbed into his hands, feeling a small comforting pat on his back. Charlotte’s hands. He glanced up at her wry smile, and not wanting to lie to her, gave her a quick wink before pretending to cry again.

“See, you scared him!” Charlotte hugged Brandon tightly, surprising him. “Fortunately I stepped in! How could you try to hurt him? He’s just a kid!”

“…” Everyone stared at her for a moment, thinking the same thing.

_What about you? Aren’t you a kid?_

 “I’m sorry!” The teenage boy backed away from her glare, only to run into Lacy, who looked ready to tear him limb from limb.

“You hurt that wonderful little girl’s face. Sorry won’t cut it, I’m afraid.” Her grin was vicious. “How about I show you what it means to be hit by someone stronger than you?” 

 The director coughed uncomfortably. “Lacy…”

“Don’t worry, Mark… I won’t kill him.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Just maiming should be enough.” 

“Someone hold her back.” He sighed loudly as a couple of stuntmen pinned the acting coach down before she could make good on her threats, turning his attention instead to the teenage boy. “We’ll call this an accident, and not press charges. But you’re officially off this project.”

“But-“

“Leave before I change my mind.”

He was dismissed with a wave of the director’s hand.

Brandon had stopped pretending to cry, and looked up to see the teenage boy glaring at him.

 _This isn’t over._  Is what that look said.

Brandon turned away, ignoring him. 

“Umm… for what you did. Thanks.”

The girl who had been pretending to comfort him stepped away quickly, as if unwilling to be any closer to him than necessary. “Don’t thank me, it was more instinctive than anything else.” 

“Well I’m sorry that you got hurt.”

“Why? You didn’t do it to me.”

Faced with her coldness, Brandon lost his composure. “Just accept the apology dammit!” His voice was low enough that no one else heard them, but her eyes widened with surprise. 

“That’s a little out of character for you, isn’t it?”

He shrugged. “Not much point pretending when it never worked on you in the first place.” He hesitated for a moment, and then continued. “Besides, sometimes it’s nice to be able to be… myself.” 

She shook her head. “I don’t trust you.”

“That’s probably for the best. I lie constantly.”

“Is it really okay for you to be saying this?” Charlotte held her head in her hands, looking confused. 

“Probably not, but I’m going to anyways.” He stuck out his hands once more. “How about this: I’ll be nothing but honest with you, and in return you stop pretending I don’t exist?”

She stared at his hand, her delicate features twisted with suspicion. After a long pause she sighed. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” 

Charlotte reached out and shook his hand. 

Brandon smiled. “Probably.”

“Ugh.”

“See, I’m being honest!”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s not something to be proud of, idiot. That’s baseline human decency.”

“Baby steps.”

“So says the five year old.” 

He glared. “I’m seven and a half!”

“Wow, so impressed.” 

“You’re younger than me!”

Her smirk irritated him. “Only in physical age. Mentally I’m a decade ahead.” 

“I don’t like you.”

“Likewise.”

For some reason, despite the argument, they both turned around and walked away  with a smile on their faces. 

* * *

As Brandon walked away, he heard a dark mutter from the corner of the room. 

“Disgusting.”

Surprised, he looked up, it was the writer of the original work, Peter McAllen. He was glaring at the young girl’s back, with eyes filled with hatred. 

Seeing the look on his face, Brandon turned away, a chill of fear running down his spine.


	5. Chapter 5

Screams of excitement filled the normally abandoned warehouse as two fighters circled each other, looking for an opportunity to strike. The bloodlust in the air was palpable, as money quickly changed hands between the excited spectators. The cheers soared as a bell rang out and the fight truly begun. They knew they would see a good fight, see blood.

After all, this was the underground fighting ring, and anything could happen.

Peter stood in the corner, hiding amongst the crowd. His arms were tightly folded across his chest, his heart beating rapidly just underneath. His face was stoic, looking almost bored, but his eyes carefully followed the smaller of the two fighters within the ring. 

Charlotte was tall, a good four inches taller than him, but even she was towered over by her enormous opponent. Outweighing her by a good 100 pounds of muscle, everyone in the arena thought they knew how this fight would end. 

Peter knew differently.

He watched as the sixteen year old girl circled the larger man. Her movements were graceful, almost as if she were dancing across the ring rather than preparing for a deadly fight. Her hands were loose at her sides, her posture relaxed, and on her face was a bright, amused grin.

Charlotte had always loved fighting. It came naturally to her, as easy as breathing or walking to a normal person. It seemed like she was made to fight, to test her strength against larger foes. It was when she seemed the most calm, relaxed. Peter always felt that was when she was the happiest, as if she had found a purpose and was single-mindedly pursuing it. It made him feel jealous, uncomfortable.

Peter sighed as she leapt forward, landing a hard strike to the flank of the man in front of her. The man stumbled, quickly regaining his balance, but it was too late. He had already lost the initiative in the fight.

 _It’s already over. He just doesn’t know it yet._ Despite having bet a good amount of money on Charlotte winning, Peter couldn’t but feel a bitter anger as he watched her in her element, shining brightly in the dark warehouse.

Within the space of a breath, Charlotte had clambered onto the fighter’s back, her arms tight around his neck. He bucked trying to throw her off, but she simply laughed, pressing her thumb against his windpipe, closing off his airway. 

It was a dirty move, one that never would have been acceptable in any other fighting ring. But this was an underground fight. The crowd shouted angrily, upset with as the odds moved against them, but it was too late. His face turned pale and without a short staggering step, the fighter fell to the ground. Charlotte leapt free, brushing her short dark hair out of her eyes with a happy grin. 

Her eyes scanned the crowd, finally meeting Peter’s gaze. Her smile widened and she gave him a thumbs up. Peter swallowed the bile rising in his throat, forced a smile, and returned the gesture.

_I hate her._

He had been thinking it for a while now. Ever since they were children, Charlotte had been there for him, helping take care of him. She protected him at all costs, making sure he stayed safe, warm and well fed as possible under their circumstances. She was always smiling, always mature. 

It was torture. 

It made him feel useless, childish. Who told her to be outstanding, to shine so brightly it made him seem dim by comparison. Standing in her shadow, Peter felt his thoughts turn darker and darker.

Peter was older now, tougher. He didn’t need her protection like he once had before in the past. His eyes followed the celebrating girl carefully, his gaze cold, calculating.

_I wonder what my life would be like without her?_

“CUT! That was a great take, people! Let’s take a fifteen minute break before the next shot.”

The director’s shout broke Peter’s concentration, shattering the memory he had been immersed in like glass. 

Peter shook his head, dispelling the remnants of his confusion, forcing himself to focus on the moment he was in, and not the past. He looked around the movie set, sighing with relief as he confirmed that no one had noticed his distraction. As his gaze settled on a young girl chatting with a small boy beside her, his posture stiffened. Peter struggled to keep the rage and disgust from showing on his face. 

She didn’t look like the girl in his memories at all, Her hair was lighter, curled, her eyes a different color. She was shorter, more petite than Charlotte had ever been when they were kids. Even with her hair cut short, her clothes ragged, no one would ever mistake one for the other…

_Then why does she remind me so much of her?_

It couldn’t just be that they shared the same name… Peter sighed, leaning against the wall, still staring at the young girl. She was rolling her eyes at something her costar had said, laughing cheerfully. Her eyes strayed past the boy before her for a moment, locking gazes with Peter. 

Immediately her smile vanished, replaced by a look of disgust. With a brief glare of hatred the girl turned away, not bothering to look at him again. Peter’s hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into the skin of the palms of his hands. 

_That was it._

No matter the differences in their appearance, there was something about the way she moved. Whether it was fighting men twice her size, laughing with her friends, protecting the young boy beside her, everything she did reminded him of Charlotte. Even down to her carefree smile whenever she was in a dangerous situation. Either way, despite the differences between them, this girl invoked the exact same emotion within him that Charlotte used to. 

Peter hated her.  

_I don’t care that you’re someone different. I got rid of Charlotte, and I’ll get rid of you._

He smiled to himself, plotting silently in his mind. 

* * *

“Hey you need to watch out for that author guy.”

Charlotte looked up from her script with a surprised expression at her costar’s whisper. 

“Really? Why is that?” Charlotte knew exactly why she needed to watch out for Peter, but she was curious as to why Brandon was warning her. 

Brandon glanced around uncomfortably before continuing in a very soft voice. “He stares at you a lot. And when he does he looks really angry, like he hates you.” 

“Ok. Then I’ll make sure to stay away from him.” Shrugging, she turned her attention back to her script, almost missing Brandon’s mouth falling open in shock. 

“Just like that?” In his astonishment his voice became louder, attracting the attention of the nearby crew members.

“Like what?”

Brandon threw up his hands in frustration. “I mean, I tell you some guy is a creep and you just believe me without asking any questions?!” 

“Should I not believe you? I thought you weren’t going to lie to me?” 

“Of course you should believe me… it’s just…” Stumbling over his own words, Brandon slumped down in his chair, his face tinged with red. “Never mind.”

She chuckled. “Not used to people trusting you after knowing the real you, huh?” 

“Shut up!” His face now bright red, Brandon jumped to his feet and ran away. 

Charlotte sighed, smiling and turning a page. “Kids these days.”

“…” Several of the filming staff heard the last part

_But… aren’t you a kid?_

No one was brave enough to say it out loud. 

* * *

After finishing filming for the day, Charlotte was brought home by her mother, and sat down to eat with her family. 

“Charlotte?” Her father was pale with shock at the sight of her. “What happened to your face?!” 

Her mother sighed. “Dear, I tried to call you, I’m sorry. It was just an accident at work.”

“…” There was no movement at all, as her dad stared silently at Charlotte’s swollen cheek. 

“It’s okay dad! It was just an accident and it doesn’t hurt at all!” Charlotte tried to smile brightly but winced a little as the movement hurt her face. 

“…” Silently her father turned back towards the hallway closet. 

“Dear?”

“Dad?”

“…” After digging around for a few moment, he found an aluminum baseball bat. Slapping it against his palm a few times to test the weight, he nodded with silent satisfaction before starting to don his coat and grab his keys. 

“NO!” 

Charlotte and her mom grabbed him and drug him back to the kitchen. They also confiscated his bat, which caused him to pout. 

“I was just going to have a little  _talk_  to the person who did this!” 

“Talk?” Charlotte raised an eyebrow. “With a baseball bat?”

“You never know how a  _talk_  can go. I just brought it in case we decided to… visit the batting cages together.”

“Dad…”

“Definitely wasn’t thinking of beating the jerk’s face in.”

“DAD!”

“What?!” He blinked innocently. “I said I  _wasn’t_  thinking about it!” 

“…”

Charlotte sighed loudly, but couldn’t help but smile, no matter how much it hurt.  _To think I lived a life where no one cared if I lived or died, but now, for just a bruise on my cheek…_ She hugged her dad tightly, which calmed him down somewhat from his murderous rage.

* * *

Just as they had sat down to dinner, her mom’s cell phone rang. She stood up and answered it, speaking quietly for a few minutes before ending the call and sitting back down with a concerned expression. 

“What is it?” Charlotte was worried. 

“It’s… nothing dear.” She waved a hand as if dismissing the question, but Charlotte wasn’t satisfied. 

“If it has to do with me or the movie, please let me know, regardless of how uncomfortable it is. I need to know what to expect when I return to work tomorrow.”

Her mother gave an odd expression. “You know Charlotte, I wonder which of us is the parent and which is the child sometimes.” She sighed. “I guess you’re right. There’s been a news story online about your role in the movie… it’s not very nice.”

Charlotte stretched out her hand. “Let me see.”

“Charlotte…”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She smiled sweetly. “May I see your phone,  _please?_ ”

“No… I mean, yes you should always say please, but that’s not… ugh, here, just read it.” She handed Charlotte her phone with a defeated expression. 

Charlotte opened up the news story link that had been texted to her mother by the director and read it, her expression turning darker as she got further in. 

* * *

* * *

“ **SEARCHING FOR SILENCE CAST SCANDAL, ACCEPTING BRIBES FOR PARTS?**

‘Searching for Silence’ is the highly anticipated film adaption of the bestselling book of the same name. Fans have eagerly been combing reports of the casting and filming progress, but who could have known there was corruption behind the scenes? An unnamed source has reported that the director and other producers accepted bribes for the casting of the lead part, ‘Edith’. The young girl who did receive the part was described as ‘talentless’ by this source. They also noted a loud argument between author Peter McAllen and the director as the first time writer felt that the girl was ‘completely wrong’ for Edith. Fans are increasingly concerned…”

* * *

* * *

Charlotte skimmed the remainder of the article, which she noticed had posted her casting photo. The picture was of herself in a pink dress with long hair and curls. It definitely gave the opposite feel as the character she was playing. Charlotte scrolled down and looked at some of the comments people were making. She winced. The internet was not kind. 

“What the…” Her father looked over her shoulder, his face almost turning blue as he looked at the comments with her. 

“Dad… remember to breathe.” 

He closed his eyes briefly, taking in a deep breath. “Excuse me.” 

With that he shouldered his bat and started walking towards the door. 

“Honey!”  
“Dad!”

“Don’t stop me! Did you see what they said about our little girl?” He hefted his bat with a vicious grin. “Don’t worry sweetie, I’ll take care of it.”

“What are you going to do, beat up the whole internet?”

“If that’s what it takes.” He turned back towards the door.

“GRAB HIM!”

His bat was confiscated again, and the grumbling parent was confined to the living room until he had renounced his vigilante plan. 

* * *

Once they had calmed him down, Charlotte looked back at the article with a frown. 

“Don’t read that garbage, it’s just nonsense.” Her mother tried to reassure her, but she shook her head in response. 

“It’s not my feelings that are the problem. This isn’t good publicity-wise for the movie. If people get caught up with untrue stuff like this, it might affect ticket sales.”

“…” Her parents glanced at each other in confusion.  

“So, what do you think should be done?” Her dad asked hesitantly.

Charlotte grinned, wincing a little as her cheek stretched. 

“They think I’m not good enough for the part of Edith?” She laughed, a dark sound. “I just have to show them how wrong they are.”


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning when Edith arrived at work, the atmosphere was uncomfortably silent. As she walked in, the other cast and crew members glanced at her and looked away quickly, unsure of what to say. Her footsteps echoed loudly in the studio, adding to the disconcerting quiet.

Edith’s parents clutched her hands tightly, looking down at her with worried expressions. It was clear they were worried about how she was handling the news stories and her coworkers’ reaction.

Charlotte gave them all a reassuring smile.

Really, as if this would be enough to break me.

She felt slightly exasperated. Freezing cold, starvation, desperate fights with her life on the line had been her norm for almost ten years of her previous life. A little awkwardness? She could handle it.

“Mom, Dad, I’m going to get changed into my costume and get my makeup done, why don’t you touch base with the director in the meantime and see if any of this drama will affect my schedule.”

The two parents looked at each other, unsure. “But sweetie, are you sure…?”

“Guys, go, you’re stressing me out.” Charlotte gave them a little push and headed towards her dressing room with a smile. She knew they meant well, but their constant need for reassurance that she was okay was starting to grind on her nerves.

She changed into her tattered costume, sighing with relief of being freed from the frilly dress her mother had picked out for her, and sat down in the makeup room, letting the artist start her work.

The young woman did her makeup in silence, not chatting idly like normal.

Charlotte wanted to roll her eyes, but controlled her facial expressions.

All this over a freaking news article? Geez, who knew it was this easy to get adults so riled up?

“Hey freak, heard the internet hates you!” A cheerful voice broke the silence, causing her to smile.

“Hey bastard, at least the internet knows who I am.”

Brandon stepped back, clutching his chest with a dramatic expression. “Oh, ouch, you got me there!” He sat in the chair next to her, checking his reflection with a satisfied smirk. “And I’ll have you know that my parents were legally married at the time of my birth.”

“…” Charlotte stared at him, confused. “Congrats?”  
He sighed. “So you’ll have to think of a more accurate insult than ‘bastard.’” He patted her shoulder. “You’re clever for a little girl, I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

“I should have just let that guy beat your face in.” Charlotte grumbled.

His smile faltered briefly, as he studied the bruise only barely hidden by several layers of makeup on her cheek. “You probably should have.” He answered so seriously that it made her feel uncomfortable. “I’m not worth getting hurt.”

“Brandon…” Charlotte’s voice trailed off. She was good at a lot of things, but emotions, comforting others? Not really her strong suit.

He didn’t wait for her to say anything else. “Let’s get to work.” They jumped out of their chairs, thanking the makeup artist before opening the door to the main hallway, only to be greeted by multiple flashes of light.

The hall was packed with reporters, each trying to push the other out of the way to ask a more intrusive question than the last.

“CHARLOTTE, can you give us a comment on rumors that your parents paid for you to get the part?!”

“Fans are disappointed that you don’t look like Edith, thoughts?”

“Have you ever even read the book?!”

Brandon shook his head. “Who let you guys back here?! You shouldn’t be in the studio!!! Leave her alone!” He tried to step forward to protect her, but Charlotte stopped him with a gentle smile.

“It’s okay.” She stepped forward, her eyes looking forward at them, and for some reason, the reporters stepped back. There was an atmosphere around her, one that clearly telegraphed the desire and ability to cause pain and suffering. It clashed with her cute appearance and petite frame, but even that dissonance was enough to give the reporters pause.

“Hello friends.” She smiled, her voice calm, but many around her swallowed uncomfortably, sweating and looking for the nearest exit. “I understand you want to ask me questions, but this time is inconvenient. Please leave now, before we disrupt the filming schedule.”

It was all said calmly, quietly, politely. Nothing in the words themselves was threatening. But every single reporter felt her gaze like a knife at their throat, and as a group they nodded and turned to walk away, nearly running in their haste to put distance between them.

“Idiot.” Brandon gently brought a fist down on her head, not hard enough to hurt, but to catch her attention. She clutched at her hair, wincing and glaring at him, but he only smiled. “If you just threaten them all the time, how are we supposed to set the record straight?”

Charlotte frowned. “Well, they were threatening me first, I was just returning the favor.”

“Well congrats, you’re the scariest five year old the world has ever seen.” He chuckled, grabbing her hand and pulling towards the filming studio. “But next time, maybe I should do the talking, so we can take a more… diplomatic approach.”

She sighed, a slight grin tugging at her features. “Fine, we’ll try it your way next time.”

Hearing about what happened, the director immediately held an emergency meeting.

“HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?!” Mark paced the room back and forth, glaring at random crew members. “You all know that reporters are NEVER to be allowed on set without my express permission and an escort, yet a whole HERD of them show up at Charlotte’s dressing room? And you expect me to think this was a coincidence?”

“…” The room was silent, everyone looked around uncomfortably, but no one spoke up.

“No one? Really? Fine. I’ll look into it. If I find out any of you were involved, though. You’re fired. No exception.” He glared, falling into his chair with a loud sigh.

“Now how are we going to deal with the rumors about Charlotte?”

Peter held up his hand with a greasy smile. “I think we should consider recasting…”

“SHUT UP!”

“Shut. Up.”

“I’ll kill him.”

The director, Lacy the acting coach and Charlotte’s dad all spoke at once. Out of the corner of her eye Charlotte saw her mom wrestle the aluminum bat out of her father’s hands and set it aside.

How did he even get that in here?!

Charlotte sighed with a rueful grin.

The director cleared his throat. “We are NOT recasting the lead. Charlotte was born to play this part, and with her acting, this movie will be amazing… we just need to convince the public of that.”

“No matter how 'amazing’ you think her acting is.” Peter broke in, his eyes shining with amusement. “She’s tainted goods now. The public thinks she paid her way in, and now they’ll never accept her.”

Now someone was holding her mother back… it looked like she had picked up the bat…

“I have an idea.” Brandon spoke up, his quiet voice eerily loud in the sudden silence that followed.

Lacy stepped closer to him, kneeling down until they were eye to eye. “What is it?” She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, obviously trying to encourage such a young boy to speak up in front of this large crowd.

If only she knew his true personality. Charlotte prevented herself from rolling her eyes, but just barely.

Brandon however, played right into it, nodding shyly before continuing. “Since the fans think that Charlotte paid to get the part, but we all know it’s because she’s actually amazing at it, why don’t we just have a live broadcasted Q/A with the fans and allow them to see her in character as Edith?”

“Are you crazy?” One of the older actors spoke up, shaking his head. “She’d have to ad lib on the spot, answering questions as Edith, in front of a hostile crowd! They’ll eat her alive!”

Brandon smiled. “I believe she can do it. And, after watching her work these past few weeks, can anyone else really say that she can’t?”

“…” The room was silent.

Charlotte stepped forward, giving Brandon a grateful smile.

“Set up the Q&A.”

“Charlotte,” The director looked concerned. “Don’t feel that you have to…”

“Don’t worry.” Her grin was confident. “I got this.”

It didn’t take the publicity team long to set it up. Given the furor on the internet around the “paid part scandal,” it took only a few days to completely sell out tickets to a Q&A event that would be live streamed.

The room was crowded, filled with unfamiliar, unfriendly faces.

Charlotte sat on a chair on the stage, wearing her Edith costume and makeup, feeling at ease despite the tightly wound atmosphere.

This reminds me of when I went to confront Leonard’s gang after Peter stole money from them.

She shuddered slightly at the thought. That fight had led to her accruing two gunshot wounds, breaking an arm and a long gash along her right thigh.

She had been afraid then. It was hard to be afraid now.

In the front row sat the director, Lacy and Brandon. Her parents were not in the crowd, held backstage by security after her father let it slip that if anyone were to be “less than nice” to his little girl that he wasn’t afraid to “show them the error of their ways.”

Brandon’s face was pale, she could see he was regretting his idea to set up this Q&A. He tried to smile at her to reassure her, but wasn’t able to completely hide his concerned expression.

Charlotte couldn’t help but chuckle. When he acted like this, it was hard to remember that she didn’t like him because he reminded her of Peter.

Because when he acted all protective and older brother-like… he reminded Charlotte of herself when she was his age.

It made her want to protect him instead of hating him.

And she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that.

Charlotte took a deep breath, faced the sea of hostile faces, and stood up and took her microphone with a smile.

“Hi everyone!” She greeted the crowd cheerfully.

“…” A tense silence was the only response. One fan muttered, “What a fake. She’s nothing like Edith.” Too which a general grumbling replied.

“I know you all have concerns about the rumors, about my parents buying a part and the author not liking me for my portrayal of Edith. But I can assure you, they didn’t need to.” The smile fell from her face, replaced by a determined expression and a threatening atmosphere. “I AM Edith.”

The first fan stepped up to the microphone, a teenage boy with a disdainful look who pulled it off the stand with a angry jerk. “I don’t want to hurt your feelings.” He started off in a tone that indicated he very much wanted to do so. “But YOU don’t look anything like what the book described.”

“Really?” Charlotte raised an eyebrow. “And how is that?”

“The book describes edith as tall for her age, with a sharp gaze and a dangerous atmosphere.” Looking her up and down, he snorted. “And we’re supposed to believe that YOU were the best choice?”

“Ok. Let’s start with that.” Charlotte smiled stepping closer to the edge of the stage. Realizing that being nice wasn’t getting her very far, she stopped pretending to be Charlotte the five year old girl. She also didn’t pretend to be Edith, the fictional character

She was simply herself.

With a quick motion, she flipped off the stage, snatching the microphone from the startled boy’s hand, leaping back up and tumbling with one hand to set herself right while sitting on the edge, her face only a few feet from her startled fan. She waved the microphone in the air, her stolen prize.

The whole scene had taken less than a few seconds.

“You see what I did there?” Her smile widened, her voice lowered, deeper, more threatening, at odd with her small frame. “I stole a microphone from your hands, while you were facing me. ”

“You caught me by surprise…”

“How easy would it have been to cut your throat instead?”

“…” A stunned silence fell on the crowd. Charlotte laughed, a disturbing sound.

“If you ever come after me, or after Jordan?” She pointed at Brandon. “I’ll destroy you. I’ll make every worst nightmare you’ve ever had come true, and in the end you’ll wish that I had just taken the easy way out. That I had just killed you.”

She leaned forward, whispering into the microphone.

“Because it would just be that easy.”

The fans stared at her with wide eyes.

“It’s Edith.”

“Holy crap, it’s Edith in real life.”

“The picture in the article was so misleading! Are they blind, she’s totally the Edith from the book.”

“I feel threatened just being in the same room as her! Too cool!”

The atmosphere of the room was changing, the anger quickly turning into excitement as they digested her performance. Even the boy who had accused her of looking nothing like the book approached her with a timid expression, holding out something in front of him.

It was a copy of “Searching for Silence” and a pen.

“Would you sign my book, Edith?”

Charlotte glared at him. “What’s in it for me?”

Opposite to her reaction, his face split into a wide smile. “WOW you’re so cool! Just like Edith!”

She finally conceded, signing his book, which led to the entire room lining up to get their book signed as well.

The event was on the right track when…

“What about the rumors that the author doesn’t want you in the role?” An young man in his early twenties had grabbed the second microphone stand, spitting out the question with venom in his tone.

The crowd paused, clutching their signed goods and wavered.

“Maybe he knows something that we don’t?”

“Crap, if the author’s not happy…”

“What if she’s only good at threatening people?”

“…” Charlotte sighed. What now? It didn’t seem like she could just threaten them again. That was what she was good at though. Looking around the room of quickly shifting expressions, Charlotte racked her brain for a plan… and came up empty.

“YOU GUYS ARE IDIOTS!” A voice called out, breaking the awkward silence.

Charlotte turned in shock, just in time to see Brandon leap up on the stage.

“Aww that kid’s so cute!”

“Cute? He just called us idiots!”

“So?”

“Shh! He’s talking!”

Ignoring the murmurs, Brandon pointed at the crowd with a disdainful look. “How can you guys be so blind?! She’s shown you a more realistic performance than most actors and actresses could only dream of, and you’re still questioning whether she’s right for the role?! HOW MANY FIVE YEAR OLDS DO YOU KNOW WHO COULD ACT THIS WELL?!” He threw up his hands with disgust.

“But…” The young man holding the microphone tried to speak up, but Brandon shouted him down.

“NO. No. This is ridiculous, and you want to know why?” He pointed at himself. “Because I’m the freaking son of the producers of this movie, and I got one of the lead parts. So let me ask you something…” He leaned down, glaring at the fan. “Why aren’t there any rumors about me paying my way into my role?”

The young man backed away. “I- I don’t…”

“Because this was never about 'a fair audition’ or her 'being good enough.’” HE shook his head. “WAKE UP PEOPLE! Realize when you’re being used by someone else! Being used to take down a talented little girl. You should be ashamed of yourselves!”

He grabbed Charlottes hand in his own and pulled her off the stage, throwing her mic on the ground as he left with her.

“Brandon…I’m sorry…”

“You shut up too!” He growled at her, upset. “You did nothing wrong! How dare they talk to you like that?!”

Charlotte followed behind him, unable to hide the smile that crossed her face.

When was the last time she had ever been protected, and not been the one protecting?

She had lived two lifetimes, but this was still a first for her.

“Brandon… Thanks.”

He didn’t turn to look at her, but the grip of his small hand tightened on her own. “Whatever.”

His ears turned bright red and she laughed, feeling happy.

“DAMMIT!”

Peter threw his glass at the television in front of him, it struck the screen with a crash, splintered glass and sparks showered the ground. “HOW DID SHE ESCAPE AGAIN?!”

He had planned everything. Leaking the story to the press. Arranging to let the reporters back to her dressing room. Paying someone to pose as an annoyed fan, to try to rile them up after her first performance. It might have even worked, if that stupid little boy hadn’t stepped in.

Why would he protect her?! Doesn’t he know she’ll only make him feel stupid, feel weak?!

He clenched his fists, wishing he could destroy the faces he had seen on the now broken screen.

Charlotte.

It was the same old Charlotte. He saw her during her “act.” There was never a question in his mind during that moment. Her every action, her mannerisms, even her voice, were exactly like the girl in his memories.

He had lived by her side for more than ten years, spent every waking moment with her. He knew her better than anyone.

Peter had always had suspicions,watching the little girl. They seemed similar, but slightly different, and it seemed to impossible to even consider.

But the girl on his screen today. Her graceful movements when stealing the microphone, the triumphant smile when she threatened him… It was without a doubt the same girl. The Charlotte he had once knew.

The one he had murdered.

How had she come back?! Peter felt himself break out into a cold sweat. It should be impossible, something out of a fantasy.

Something needed to be done.

“So you came back to haunt me, huh Charlotte?” He whispered, thinking of her words when they first met. She had called him a liar, a fraud.

“But you underestimated me. Now that I know who you are, there’s no holding back.” He started to laugh, the mad sound echoing in his empty living room.

“I killed you once. And I can do it again.”


	7. Chapter 7

“Don’t worry, I’ll always be here for you.” Charlotte grabbed Brandon’s hand in her own, smiling gently

“AND CUT! That’s a wrap!” Stepping closer, the director’s smile stretched from ear to ear. “That was fantastic, guys! Great job!” 

Everyone in the cast and crew broke out in cheers, hugging and high-fiving each other as it spread that they had successfully filmed the last scene.

Charlotte and Brandon sighed with relief, their hands letting go as they grinned. 

“Not too bad, Edith.” The boy chuckled. “Given a few more years of experience, you might even be as good of an actor as me one day.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Be still my beating heart.” Standing up, she started to walk away, looking for her parents.

“Hey, wait!” Brandon reached out, his hand hesitating and hanging in the air as if he had wanted to grab her arm to stop her, but changed his mind. Despite the pause, she heard him and stopped, staring at him with a curious expression.

“What is it?” 

“It’s just… “ He swallowed uncomfortably, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “You really nailed this… I mean… It’s not even like you are Edith. It’s more like… Edith is like you.” He shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense. I mean, the character in the book was great, but you seem to make her a person, a real person with hopes and dreams. Until it seems like she’s more based off of you then you off of her.” 

Charlotte smiled. “Maybe she is based off of me.” 

“Funny. The book would have just been published around the time you were born.” 

“You never know.”

“I guess, I just wish…” Brandon frowned, growing more uncomfortable. Looking frustrated at his pauses, Charlotte let out a long sigh. 

“No offense, but get to the point.”

“Sorry. This is just going sound really stupid.” His face turned slightly red as he spoke. “I just wish that I could have done the same, and made the character Jordan real. I wish we could have been friends in real life like that, growing up together, looking out for each other, protecting each other.”

The smile slipped from Charlotte’s face, leaving a blank expression. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.” A slightly distressed expression took the place of his previous embarrassed one. “I promised not to lie to you anymore, remember?”

“You want truth?” Charlotte’s voice was cold, almost unrecognizable. “Let me tell you the truth.”

Her hand reached out and grabbed the boy’s collar, pulling him closer. 

“This story was based on true people. A little boy and girl. Growing up together, protecting each other. The ideal friendship you’re imagining.” She was whispering now, her eyes shining with a pain she couldn’t hide. “But that was a lie. She was the only one getting hurt to protect him, the only one who was trusting, helping, all while expecting nothing in return. The boy just took everything, giving nothing. And do you want to know what happened when he had taken all he could, and she was no longer useful?”

“… What?” Brandon’s voice cracked on the word. He didn’t want to know. Didn’t want to hear the rest of the story that was making tears form in his friend’s eyes. But he knew she needed to say it. 

“He killed her.” A single tear tracked down her cheek, but she ignored it, never looking away from the boy’s frightened gaze. “He murdered her, and watched her die, a smile on his face.”

Charlotte released her grip on Brandon’s shirt, and stepped back. 

“How do you know… ?” He trailed off, unsure of how to ask the question, afraid of the answer.

Charlotte walked off without a word. 

* * *

 “Great job, Sweetie!” Charlotte’s parents met up with her outside her dressing room. Her father swept her up into a big hug, a large smile on his face. “We’re so proud of you!”

“Thanks!” Charlotte hugged them both, enjoying the feeling of being with family. The conversation with Brandon just then had brought up the feelings of despair and regret from her previous life, and time with her parents was just what she needed to move past that. 

“The director told us about the party to celebrate finishing filming tonight.” Her mom chimed in. “Do you want to go?”

Charlotte frowned. “That’s not something you typically invite kids to though, right?”

“Well, he said you would be more interested in the early half of the party, where there will be good food and a chance for everyone to tell you how wonderful you did. We can leave before your bedtime.” 

Charlotte thought it over. “I guess that would be fine, as long as I don’t miss out on too much sleep.” She shrugged. “I need plenty of sleep if I’m going to grow up healthy.”

“…” Her parents passed a look between them and shook their heads. 

“Remind me who the adult in this relationship is?” 

Charlotte ignored her mother’s muttering, and looked up at her father, confused. “Wait, why are you off work today?”

Her parents had taken turns taking off of work to drive her to the studio, and today should have been her mother’s day. 

“Well…” Her father looked slightly embarrassed. “I may have taken on a special… project at work.”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. “A project?”

“Tell her.” Her mother sighed. 

“It’s not a big deal, just was sitting around with my coworkers, and happened to tell them about the terrible things the internet people had said about you…” He shrugged. “They were horrified, of course, and so we came up with a group project.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask.”

“Your father and his coworkers have turned into a rabid dedicated PR team on the internet, promoting your movie and going after anyone spreading rumors about you. It’s basically a fan club.” Rolling her eyes, her mother continued. “Imagine my shock when I stopped by his workplace only to see a group of middle-aged men and women waving banners with your name on them, hunched over computer screens, celebrating catching Internet trolls.”

“…”

“Don’t worry sweetie.” Her father tapped a silver pin on his chest with a proud expression. “I’m the club president.”

“That… was not what I was worried about.”

“It’s okay.” Her mother whispered in Charlotte’s ear. “He’s just all fired up after those reporters cornered you in your dressing room the other day. He and his friends at work should calm down shortly.”

“What if…”

“Otherwise I’ll take care of it.” Her tone was final.

“Dad…” She smiled, looking up at the worried parent hovering over her. “You’re an idiot.”

“…”

“I love you!” She threw herself in his arms, hugging him tightly. 

“I love you too.” He hugged her back. 

For the second time that day Charlotte cried.

This time… they were tears of relief. 

_This life, this new life. It isn’t wasted. I have a family._

* * *

 The party was in full swing by the time Charlotte and her family arrived.

“And here’s our star!” Mark Tuttle grinned and pointed at their entrance, leading everyone in a round of applause. Charlotte smiled at the director, waving her hand slightly until the attention turned away from her. Breathing a small sigh of relief, she was about to move towards the table with the drinks and appetizers on it, when she was stopped by Lacy. 

“Charlotte!” The young woman shook her hand enthusiastically. “I was looking for you!” 

Shaking her head slightly, Charlotte chuckled, taking her hand back. “Well you found me.”

“I wanted to talk to you! I’m the casting director for a new project, one that requires some talented child actors.”

Charlotte stepped back, shocked. “I’m not…”

“It’s obviously a very different project than ‘Searching for Silence.’ Less action and drama more of a fantasy adventure. But given your talents I know you could bring the film to a whole new level.” 

“I think you’re misunderstanding something.” Charlotte held up her hand. “I was good in this movie because I fit the role well. That doesn’t make me a professional actress.”

“Really?” Lacy’s grin widened. “A five year old…”

“Five and three quarters.”

“…Almost six year old who can portray complicated emotions at the drop of a hat, including hatred, guilt, anger and grief?” She rolled her eyes. “You’re a freaking goldmine to any director.”

“I…”

“Just think about it.” Lacy patted her back. “Plus, you’d get to work with your friend.”

“Friend?”

“Brandon is being considered for one of the main roles as well! Wouldn’t that be great?!”

Charlottes gaze drifted over to the corner of the room, where Brandon was standing next to Peter, talking. Neither of them had a pleasant expression. 

“Yeah…” her voice trailed off as a new unease took root in her chest. “Great.”

* * *

Brandon hadn’t planned on confronting Peter at this party.

He had just been standing nearby, pouring himself a cup of punch, when he heard the author complaining loudly. 

“I know I wrote it, but I wish I had given the story a different ending.”

He gulped down the drink in his hand, slamming the cup on a nearby table with a frustrated expression. “What a stupid scene. Jordan and Edith getting along and having a happy ending!”

Brandon thought about the words Charlotte had said earlier, the pain in her eyes as she talked about how the boy Jordan had been based off of had murdered his friend. A sense of disgust took over him and he stepped closer before he had realized it. 

“And how would you end it instead?” He interrupted, his sarcastic tone at odds with his innocent face. “Have Jordan betray the one person who has sacrificed everything to protect him? Now that’s a stupid ending!”

Peter’s face turned pale. “No one would want to live in the shadow of a girl like that forever. Perfect at everything she does. Mature, even as a child.” He snorted. “Anyone would snap eventually.”

Brandon thought about Charlotte. She was smart, talented, and much more mature than she should be for her age. He had always been used to being the center of attention, but whenever she was around, she outshined him. Should he resent her? Be jealous? 

But then Brandon laughed. “No one is perfect, even if they seem like it. 

And she wasn’t. 

She was awkward at making friends, trying to talk about the weather and political climate with other five year olds. She tried to solve every problem by threatening it, and if that didn’t work by beating it up. She always jumped ahead without thought, without fear, never even considering the possibility of failure.

She wasn’t perfect.

“So, doesn’t change the fact that Jordan would be better off without Edith.” Peter argued back, a strange light in his eyes. 

Brandon rolled his eyes. “Of course, who would want a dedicated friend who cares for you and supports you in everything you do?” 

“Supports you in living in her shadow!”

“WHO CARES?!” Brandon threw up his hands. “Even if you’re in her shadow, at least you’re by her side! And if she’s stronger, smarter and faster… well I’ll just find the things that I can do, and help her the best I can. Because that’s what friends do!! They don’t worry about who’s better! They become better together!”

Peter’s expression grew cold. “You’re just a child.”

“And you’re an idiot.”

Brandon stomped away, not paying any attention to the threatening glare at his back.

* * *

“Here.” Brandon put a cup of punch on the table before Charlotte, who had been resting on the couch, lost in her thoughts. Her eyes flickered quickly towards him and then towards the drink on the table. 

“What’s that?”

“It’s punch.”

“Why did you put it there?”

“So you can drink it?” Brandon shook his head. “And they told me you were smart.”

“Umm… thanks.” She reached out to grab the glass. “What were you talking to the author about?”

“Just stupid stuff.” He smiled. “Don’t worry about it.”

Charlotte stiffened, a memory from her previous life overwhelming her. 

* * *

* * *

_“Why are you grinning so much?” Charlotte asked, sitting down with a tired expression._

_“Just stupid stuff.” Peter kept smiling, setting a coffee cup in front of her. “Don’t worry about it.”_

_“Ugh. Thanks.” She took a sip of the coffee, making a face. “This tastes terrible! What did you do, make it with your feet?”_

_Peter scowled. “Sorry I’m not a world class barista.”_

_“I forgive you.” She chuckled, taking another sip with a wince. “If I wasn’t so tired and needed the caffeine…”_

_“You should get some rest. You’ve been working too hard.” The right words were coming out of Peter’s mouth, but something seemed… off._

_Charlotte shook herself slightly, trying to focus on his question. “I can’t go to sleep yet. I need to check and see if there’s been a response from the publishers.” She grinned. “This book I wrote is pretty great, I think someone will buy it.”_

_“…” Peter stared at her silently. A headache started pounding at her temples. She took another drink of coffee, setting it down half-finished to rub her temples._

_“What did you do today?”_

_He showed her a letter in his hand. Her head hurt worse, she had to struggle to read it._

_It was a publishing offer._

_Charlotte would have jumped up and cheered, thrilled to see a reward for all the late nights, all the hard work she had done. She would have given Peter a hug, thanking him for the terrible coffee again and the surprise of revealing the letter._

_She would have…_

_There was just one problem._

_The name on the letter was not hers._

_Peter McAllen._

_“You… you stole my book?” It was hard to talk, her lips were slightly numb._

_Peter looked defensive._

_“It wasn’t my fault!”_

_And so started the last argument she would ever have with him. The one that ended with her dying on the floor, while he looked on with a satisfied expression._

* * *

* * *

**CRASH!**  The glass slipped through her fingers, splintering into multiple pieces as it hit the floor. Punch spilled out over her shoes, staining them red… 

“Charlotte, are you okay?”

She looked over at the boy who reminded her of Peter, her face curled in a snarl. “Leave me alone!” 

He stepped back, startled. He looked genuinely worried. Charlotte’s heart softened, and she was about to reach out and apologize, when her eyes caught on the broken glass at her feet.

_Had she really been about to take a drink from a glass he had handed her? Was being poisoned once by someone she trusted not enough for her? Had she learned nothing?_

Charlotte pushed past him, ignoring his hurt expression as she quickly found her parents. 

“Take me home.”

Without asking questions they bundled her up and took her out. As she was being whisked away, she saw Brandon’s face.

Pain. 

Confusion.

Fear.

Charlotte turned away, ignoring him, and let her father carry her out of the party. 

* * *

Later that night, Charlotte sat on her bed, staring down at her hands. She felt slightly guilty at how she had left Brandon without a word, but it was hard to ignore the memories he sometimes invoked.

 _He’s not Peter._ She told herself quietly, rocking in place.  _We’re friends._

 _Yes, but you thought Peter was your friend too, didn’t you, and look how that turned out._ A awful voice in the back of her mind whispered back. Charlotte had no answer, and sat there silently, confused.

 **Tap, tap**. A sound of something hitting her window.

Charlotte looked outside. There was a note taped to the window sill. Picking it up with trembling hands, she read the scrawl across the page, an all too familiar handwriting.

* * *

“I’ve taken your little friend. If you don’t want him to die then meet me at the secret base. Come alone.”

* * *

“Shit.” Charlotte whispered, the paper crumpling in her hand. “He knows.”

She always thought Peter might recognize her one day. They had grown up together, knew everything about each other. So many little signs, clues, only the fact that it seemed so impossible seemed to argue against him realizing the truth.

But he knew. 

Otherwise why else would he tell her to meet him at the “secret base”? It was their secret growing up, an abandoned shed in the middle of nowhere, where they used to hide during the worst times growing up. 

Straightening out the paper, she read it again, her eyes staying on the words “little friend.” Her stomach sank even further.

“Brandon.” She was surprised at the pain in her voice. Charlotte looked around her room with a defeated expression. All over the walls were pictures. Pictures of her smiling with her parents. Playing, laughing… living a new life.

She could lose everything. All the wonderful things she had gained by being reborn. Her childhood, her family, her home.

But she couldn’t let him die.

Silently she opened her window further, crawling out and running into the night. She didn’t hesitate, she knew this location better even then this house she was currently growing up in. 

“Okay Peter.” She smiled , a humorless expression. “I’m coming home.”

* * *

“Charlotte.” His voice was the first thing she heard as she entered the shack. 

“Peter.” She responded in kind, forcing herself not to react to the terrible seen in front of her. In the five years since she last saw this place, it hadn’t changed much. The sagging couching, the chipped tables. The barely functioning generator powering a small tv and a coffee maker. It looked exactly the same it had the day she died, in the very spot she was standing now. 

Charlotte shivered, both from the cold draft and from fear. 

Peter stood in the back, his eyes fanatical, staring at her with a triumphant expression. He held a terrified Brandon in front of him, who was too scared too move. He also held a gun to the young boy’s head.

“Let him go.” She spoke calmly, not wanting to startle him. “You want me, not him.” 

“CHARLOTTE NO!” Brandon screamed out. “JUST RUN! I’LL BE OKAY!”

Peter started laughing, a disturbing sound that echoed through the cabin. Shaking his head slightly, he sighed, gesturing with the gun as he spoke. 

“How cute. He’s actually trying to protect you. You of all people!” Peter snorted. “You and I both know you never needed anyone’s protection.”

“Let him go.”

“No.” He smiled. “He’s my insurance that you won’t do something stupid.” 

“Seriously?” Charlotte spread her hands, sweating nervously as the gun swayed back and forth, keeping an aim on Brandon. “I’m five years old, how much damage could I do?”

His eyes narrowed. “Nice try. I might even believe you if you hadn’t shown off your skills with the stunt men. Besides, even if I hadn’t seen that… I know you’re perfectly capable of taking down me and anyone unlucky enough to go against you. I used to make money on you taking down guys twice your size in fights, remember?” 

“Charlotte, what’s going on?” Brandon’s eyes darted between the two of them. “What’s he talking about?”

“Yes, Charlotte, why don’t you tell your little friend that despite his desperate attempts to be honest with you, you’ve been lying to him all along.”

“Peter…” Charlotte’s voice held a warning tone, but he ignored her, continue to talk.

“That you’re not the little five year old Charlotte that he thinks you are.” He laughed.  “I can’t believe that you would actually play the part of the character based on yourself. ”

She watched carefully as he ranted, hoping for an opening. 

“You’re the street trash Charlotte. The fighter Charlotte. The criminal Charlotte.”

“The Charlotte you murdered.” She whispered. “The Charlotte you poisoned when she trusted you.”

“MY CHARLOTTE!” His enraged scream filled the small cabin. “You deserved it! I did what I had to do!” 

“Wait!” Brandon’s eyes widened. “That story you told me today, the one about the boy who betrayed and murdered the girl… YOU’RE that girl?! That means that he…” He trailed off, looking up at the man holding a gun to his head. “He betrayed you after you had spent your life helping him out, protecting him?”

“Showing off! Making me feel worthless!” Peter snapped back, but Brandon wasn’t listening.

“Oh no…” He turned pale. “The drink today, did you think… Plus, when we first met, you called me Peter.” He shook his head, his eyes sad. “Do I remind you of him?!”

“At first.” Charlotte admitted quietly. “Not anymore.”

“That’s a relief, I just…”

“SHUT UP!” Looking obviously frustrated at being ignored, Peter dug his gun into the boy’s head. “We’re getting off topic!”

“Hey! You’re ruining this important bonding moment in our friendship!” Brandon argued.

“I am holding the gun!” 

“Still!” 

“What do you want, Peter?” Charlotte interrupted. “I’m assuming you didn’t call me out in the middle of the night to tell Brandon that I reincarnated.” 

“You are a perverse existence. A curse on my life.” Peter hissed, putting more pressure on the weapon in his hand. “I took care of you! You were supposed to stay dead! But you’re here, taking over my project from MY book!”

“That you stole.”

“And making me look like an idiot again!” He sighed. “I won’t do it. You have to be gotten rid of.”

Charlotte smiled at him. “Good. Let go of the kid and let’s try to kill each other.”

“I’m not that stupid. There’s your answer.” He looked down at the table in between them, and Charlotte’s breath left in a rush as she saw what he was looking at:

**A coffee cup.**

“No.” Her voice was filled with pain. “Not again.”

“Again.” He grinned. “We’re going to repeat the past, but this time, you’re going to stay dead.”

“Wait! What?!!” Brandon looked down at the cup, panicked. “Is that poison?! You can’t do that! Run away!”

“Oh, you little fool.” Peter tightened his grip on the boy. “I know her better than anyone else alive. She’s nearly unbeatable, but she had two weaknesses: First she was too trusting.” He shrugged. “My betrayal took care of that, but she still has the second weakness: She needs to save everyone.”

“…” Charlotte stared silently at her former friend. 

“She has only known you for a short while, and she already can’t stand to let you get hurt. Not if she can save you.”

“NO!” Brandon started to scream, but Peter’s hand clamped down over his mouth.

“Now  _here’s_  the deal, Charlotte: You drink the poison, and I let the kid go. You don’t drink?” He tapped the gun against Brandon’s head. “Your friend dies.”

“You’ll never get away with that.” Her voice was flat, expressionless, her eyes never leaving the cup on the table. 

“Probably. But he will still be dead, and you will never be able to live with yourself. Almost worth not killing you.” 

“How do I know you’ll let him go?”

“You don’t.” His tone was cold. “But you absolutely know that if you don’t, he’ll die. It’s your only chance to save his life.”

“…” Charlotte reached out slowly, holding the cup between her hands. It was slightly warm, the weight unfamiliar to her. She hadn’t held a coffee cup since she had been reborn. Her head started to hurt, a phantom of a memory from a different life.

“Drink it.” Peter ordered, his eyes almost glowing in the dim light in the cabin. Brandon’s eyes were as wide as they could go, he desperately was trying to shake his head from side to side. Clearly he was trying to tell her to run, to save herself.

Charlotte smiled. She had definitely made a better friend in this life than her last. She looked down at the coffee, the bitter scent reminding her of her death, the anger, the frustration, the loneliness. 

  _I don’t want to die._

She had a home in this life. Parents who loved her. A friend who would sacrifice himself to save her. She wasn’t the same Charlotte who died helpless on this floor, betrayed and alone.

**She was more.**

“OUCH!” Peter’s hand flew up, blood splashing through the air. Brandon had bit the hand covering his mouth, his teeth tearing through skin. Peter recovered quickly, regaining his composure and grabbing Brandon again to aim the gun at his head. His lapse had only lasted the briefest moment.

_But it was enough._

**CRASH!**  

The cup went flying through the air, striking Peter on the forehead as it left Charlotte’s hand at full speed. She lept forward, jumping on the table in front of him and kicking him in the chest, knocking him backwards. He tried to sit up again, but she had already grabbed the coffee mug, slamming it down on his throat. He choked falling back, his hands clutching his neck as he struggled to breathe. Charlotte knelt on his chest, her face grim, and reared backwards, her small fist clenched around the ceramic. 

**BAM**

She broke his nose. 

“That’s for kidnapping my friend.”

**BAM**

A tooth was knocked loose, flying through the air and rolling under a nearby chair. 

“That’s for trying to poison me.”

**BAM!**

“And THAT’s for stealing my book and killing me in my last life.”

He was unconscious. 

Charlotte found a rope in a chest nearby, and tied him up. She then began searching his pockets. 

“What are you doing?”

She held up his cell phone. “Bingo.”  She dialed a number. 

“Hello? Me and my friend were kidnapped.” Her voice on the phone was a frantic sob, but her face stayed calm. “We knocked him out, but I don’t know how much longer we’ll stay safe! Please send help!” 

She paused, listening. 

“Yes, we know him, he’s working on the movie we’re in. His name is Peter McAllen.” She winked at Brandon. “He said I reminded him of a girl he knew growing up, and that he had stolen his book from her and poisoned her. He said because my name was Charlotte too that I was her reborn to curse him and wanted to kill me and my friend. Please send help! The address is…” She rattled off the address and then hung up, ignoring any attempts to keep her on the line. 

Brandon shook his head. “You’re getting pretty good at this ‘acting’ thing.” 

“Can you keep my secret?” She ignored his comment, asking the question anxiously instead. 

Brandon smiled, grabbing her pinky finger with his own. 

“What are friends for?”

* * *

They sat together on the front step outside, watching the stars and waiting patiently for the police to arrive. Charlotte couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“What’s so funny?”

“You know, I’m glad I got this second chance.” She stared up at the stars, slightly blurred through a vale of tears. “I thought I had a family in my first life… but I had nothing. This time, I have parents, friends… and that’s everything I could have ever wanted.”

“Plus you got revenge on the guy who killed you!” Brandon pushed the angry, gagged Peter who laid helpless on the ground in front of them with his foot. The man glared in return, but was ignored by the two children. “And you’re only five. What are you going to do now?”

Charlotte shrugged. “I don’t know… I hadn’t planned that far ahead.” She looked over. “Tell me about this new project you’re going to be acting in.”

“Did Lacy talk to you?!” Brandon looked excited, “You should try out for the part! Then we can keep working together and hanging out…” He trailed off, slightly embarrassed. 

“I’d like that.” She smiled. “Acting was kind of fun.”

They both stayed silent after that, listening to the sounds of sirens in the distance. Charlotte let out a slow, sigh of relief.

She was alive.

And this time, she would live a life filled with friends and family.

**This time, she would be happy.**


End file.
